FEMA camp 37

A Story of the Free America West

By R.E. Riepe

Dedicated to M. Riepe, the love of my life.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One – An Average Fema Day

Chapter Two – Run to Daylight

Chapter Three – Leaving Las Vegas Ain’t East

Chapter Four – The Stratosphere Falls

Chapter Five – Nevada Camp Out

Chapter Six – Doc

Chapter Seven – Wilderness Horror Story

Chapter Eight – The Passageway of Faith and The Nightmare Trail

Chapter Nine – Tunnel Camping

Chapter Ten – I Want to be a Scout

Chapter Eleven – Calamity Jane and the Black Widow

Chapter Twelve – A Tale of Death

Chapter Thirteen – The Birth of the Pale Rider

Chapter Fourteen – Message to the Government

Chapter Fifteen – Making Plan, Getting Ready

Chapter Sixteen – FEMA Camp 37 Revisited

Epilogue

Prologue

I have been asked by the Free America government to write my memoirs about the events of the Second Civil War for the Always Remember Program that is to be implemented in our schools in the coming year. Historians at several of our advanced schools have requested that I focus on the vague and generally unknown events that happened long ago concerning FEMA camp 37. Historians in present times forty years later generally concede that the Second Civil War started the day that FEMA camp 37 was blown up and burned to the ground by Free Americans in Nevada along with seven other FEMA camps in the country that was formally known as the United States of America. Thankfully it still is one country but the second time around it is now the United States of Free America. It is now strictly governed by our Constitution and Bill of Rights. It was a long and costly struggle.

Most people don’t know about the legacy of FEMA camp 37, except for the brave rural citizens in Nevada, which at that time and presently is today, few and far between.  FEMA camp 37 was actually burned to the ground two times and attacked for a third time over six years and Nevada became the first state to be free of a government that had become tyrannical and ruthless. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people died in the FEMA camps. Unlike many states we had only one large city and a vast wilderness composed of desert and God’s rugged mountains to take refuge in.  He knew what He was doing when he created those wonderful mountains. We also had just one major government military base to take out along with some minor ones in our state. Some Free Americans with a vision of the future knew what to do and how to get it done.

The first time FEMA camp 37 was blown up and burned only nineteen inmates fled to the Free America movement out of two hundred thousand. No one knows to this day how many people perished from the FEMA guards’ guns or the resulting fire caused by our actions. The second time FEMA camp 37 was destroyed after being rebuilt two thousand and twenty two fled to the mountains with the Free Americans. The third and final time FEMA camp 37 was attacked over one hundred thousand inmates joined the Free Americans and this time we had the weapons and the people to take back our state. We destroyed the government air base at Nellis and liberated Las Vegas the same day.  I know because I was there all three times, the first time as an inmate locked up in FEMA Camp 37 and the last two as the leader of the Free America scouts who performed the raids.

I, along with President Scott Nomma of the United States of Free America, was amongst those nineteen inmates who fled during the first raid on FEMA camp 37. Looking back forty years later we both will admit we fled not because of courage at the time, but fear. We both were young when placed in FEMA camp 37, very young, and we did not know what freedom was. Our elders had lost their way and gave up their liberties along with their freedom to the federal government.

Now in the twilight of my life I realize that the brave men and women I once knew during the struggle must never be forgotten. What saddens me is a lot of them I never knew their last or in some cases their real names but they all had one thing in common. They died free.

I understand that a movie is to be made about FEMA camp 37. No director or screenwriter will be able to capture the passion and heart wrenching events of those early years. My story begins the day I was liberated from FEMA camp 37.

July 4th, 2062 

Free America Governor

Amanda Jefferson

Chapter One

An Average FEMA Day

The loud sound of wailing sirens mounted outside high upon stout guard towers and the sound of metal clappers striking rapidly on large round pieces of cast iron mounted inside on tan concrete walls harshly resonated in the air. The two ominous sounds were designed to wake up sleeping people. Both sounds continued to fill the air for a long twenty seconds.

Scott rolled over on a thin foam filled mattress that was his single bed throwing his wool blanket against a cold concrete wall and then sat up slowly. He shivered slightly as his feet came in contact with the cement floor. He had forgotten to wear his socks to bed last night which was something he usually did.  The concrete floor in his room always seemed to be cold.  He rubbed the sleep out of his brown eyes and focused on a small wall clock in his room. It was five in the morning which was the time for him to get up and start his day. He had thirty minutes to take care of his personal needs like getting dressed and tidying up his ten by fifteen foot room before going to the community cafeteria for breakfast. He had plenty of time because he was well versed in this routine. He had been doing this everyday for the last ten years since he was sixteen years of age.

He arose from his bed and walked over to the opposite concrete block wall of his room and turned on the television set sitting on a metal counter that spanned the length of his clean and well organized room. The channel was set to the local news station. The television was always set to a local news station. There was no such thing as cable or dish anymore. As the television announcer begin to drone with the news of the day the muscular young man went to his stainless steel sink located in the corner of his windowless room and washed his face. When he was through he found there was no towel hanging on his towel bar so he moved to the opposite corner of his room where his triangular shelves were located.  The shelves were mounted from floor to ceiling in the eight foot high room. Grabbing a small white towel off the top shelf he dried off his face and neck. The ice cold water fully woke him up and it felt good this morning. For the first time in a long time he had managed to get a full night’s sleep. Things had been quiet through the night after the lights off alarm. That was unusual for a FEMA camp.

He felt his face and determined that he had better shave today. To appear through the long day in an unkempt way might earn him some demerits from one of his less than friendly FEMA superiors.  He moved back to his coveted private sink, which was by his stainless steel toilet, and turned on the cold water to lather his face with a bar of government issued soap. The only hot water that could be found in the FEMA prison was the hot water in the community shower which was only available to any inmate every two days for ten minutes. He grabbed one of his disposable razors and shaved while still listening to the morning news using a small reflective piece of thin plastic attached to the concrete wall with masking tape. This disposable razor was still relatively sharp at the end of the week which made him feel good. The government issued every inmate one disposable razor at the beginning of each week and each issued razor was accounted for when an inmate exchanged the worn one for the new one at the end of that week. To lose a disposable meant a devastating search of his cell and a rough beat down by unrepentant FEMA guards. He completed his shave and sat down on his bed still listening to the morning news but not paying any particular attention to what the talking head was saying. That was about to change.

“This morning we have a report of another very violent insurgency on the west side of the Las Vegas valley. Early this morning at approximately four o’clock a powerful car bomb went off in a supposedly secure parking lot at a FEMA enforcement substation that killed six FEMA patrol officers reporting for their daily shift. There were also twenty people injured, some of them severely, who also worked for FEMA. So far no one has been apprehended and the authorities have no leads or suspects. This is the seventh car bombing in the last two weeks targeting our FEMA officers. FEMA and Homeland Security is asking for the public’s help in bringing these criminals to justice. Please call the number at the bottom of your screen with any helpful information or if you have seen any suspicious activity in the area of Summerlin or North Las Vegas in the past twelve hours. FEMA is offering a reward of one hundred thousand government credits for any information leading to these criminals arrest,” said the announcer.

“Also in the news today an elderly man at a local RV park on Boulder Highway on the opposite side of the valley was arrested by our FEMA agents for sending an email criticizing the President of the United States to the Las Vegas Review Journal. He is charged with inciting the public to resist and is facing twenty years to life in prison. According to FEMA authorities this is not the first time this disgruntled man has composed and sent an email criticizing our President. We don’t have his name as yet but spokesmen for the Metro police department and FEMA said the man was a veteran who had problems in the past because of his service years ago in the Viet Nam war and that he had a long history of being mentally unstable. He is now facing twenty years to life for both actions of civil disobedience. We will report on this as the story unfolds. After this break we will take a look at today’s weather.”

Then a government commercial was broadcast touting the advantages for citizens to enroll in the national healthcare program and the consequences a citizen faced if they failed to do so which were not good. There were few citizens left in America who were not enrolled in the mandatory healthcare program. The ones who resisted were now residents in the FEMA camps across the United States but every now and then the federal government would discover some stubborn soul who had managed to avoid detection for the last ten years. Sometimes it was because of mental deficiencies and other times it was because of out right resentment of a tyrannical government. Either way, those poor souls would wind up in a FEMA camp or worse, one of the FEMA gas ovens that were reported not to exist. Scott knew the truth.  That was the reason Scott was a resident of FEMA camp 37 because his father refused to enroll in the national healthcare system ten years ago. He had not seen his father, mother or siblings since that dark day.  This television break was a common government commercial that ran every day on the government networks.

Scott paused looking at his small television set. He would have bothered to walk over to the set and change channels from the boring telecast but in twenty twenty two there were only three television channels available and they were all the same. Today in Las Vegas as well as the entire United States there were only three government channels in existence for citizens to watch and nothing else. Cable and dish operations were canceled by the government years ago. All commercials in this day and age were government commercials. Commercials for any entity to make money had disappeared nine years ago along with the concept of making money. There was no private enterprise in existence anymore in the United States. The word profit was now a forbidden word in society. Any individual caught making a profit on any product or service would be assigned a one way ticket to the nearest FEMA camp. The transformation of the United States had occurred very rapidly, almost overnight.

Scott made his bed very carefully and straightened up his room. To leave any dirty clothes on the concrete floor or to leave his bed in a messy or unkempt way would generate demerits and that was something a FEMA camp resident tried to desperately avoid. To accumulate too many demerits in a given period of time would risk his losing the room he had worked hard for over the past five years. Over time he had managed to be rewarded with a private room by doing what was required by his FEMA superiors. Most FEMA inmates shared smaller rooms with four to six people and some shared larger rooms with a hundred people or more. Scott winced remembering those difficult times during his first five years in FEMA camp 37. He considered himself one of the luckier inmates. He always did what he was told to do. Plus he was a big and intimidating man which had helped.

During the first five years of his incarceration in his young life he remembered those years and how difficult it was to just survive. During those five years he had seen a lot of people die simply from lacking the ability to get clean. The young man loved his stainless steel sink and commode. To have your own toilet and your own sink was a major reward from FEMA authorities. Now days he never had to worry about someone stealing his razor or soap and he always had toilet paper. Toilet paper was a coveted commodity in FEMA camp 37 still to this day.

For the past five years the young man had developed his routine to perfection. When the clock on the concrete wall displayed twenty minutes after five he retrieved one of his standard issue black one piece jump suits with the word FEMA in big orange letters stamped on the back from his locker by the corner shelves and put it on. He then sat down on his neat bed and donned his black FEMA issued pair of socks. The black socks also had the word FEMA stamped on both sides and they too were bright orange letters. Over the past five years he had been rewarded with ten pair of black socks which eased his laundry load time each week. Then he laced up his shiny black work boots also issued by the government. He was one of the lucky ones in FEMA camp 37 to have two sets of work boots and he worked often on both pair keeping them in the cleanest of conditions. The black boots were as shiny as black boots could possibly be. As he fitted his work boots on his feet and laced them up he continued to watch the morning news, now with some interest. It seemed to him that the crime wave that was occurring in the valley was getting more active and more violent the past two weeks. For the past five years there was very little crime in the Las Vegas valley as well as the rest of the country. From twenty twelve when the world economy crashed and martial law was declared until twenty fifteen most prisoners contained in all prisons nationwide had been put to death during those three years. The government had run out of money to house, care and feed the serious offenders.  There were rumors that even non violent offenders had been exterminated. Nobody really knew what the total amount of executions was around the United States but Scott had heard that it was in the millions. At any rate, according to the government and its television stations, the crime rate in America came way down during the first three years of martial law.  Those three years also contained a vast amount of violent rioting in every major American city. A lot of Americans were sent to FEMA camps across the United States and were never heard from again. Nobody knew to this day what happened to them.

Then Sin City prison was put into operation and crime in the country dropped dramatically. No one really knew much about Sin City prison other than it was not a place to be.

He was deeply worried about his parents and two sisters who had been sent to a different FEMA camp in northern Nevada ten years ago when the FEMA authorities raided his family’s home. As of this day he did not know what had happened to his family.

He continued to watch the television report on the car bombing. This event was unusual and highly intriguing to the young man. To kill a FEMA officer or a Homeland Security agent was an instant death sentence for anyone. To kill six FEMA officers at one time was hard to digest and in the past two weeks someone had managed to kill over fifty FEMA officials despite the vast resources of the government. He found it difficult to believe any one man or group of men could accomplish that deadly task without getting caught and it was very unusual for the government to ask for the public’s assistance in this day and time. The television announcer seemed to be pleading for help. Scott knew that most people in the outside world would not contact FEMA authorities because that would invite unwanted scrutiny and some severe interrogation techniques.

Suddenly without warning what sounded like a shot rang out from the tiny speaker in his television set. At least for the moment it sounded like a gunshot to the young man. He quickly discovered that was precisely what he had heard. The morning news desk anchor on screen at Channel 13 peeled over across his desk with blood spewing out of the side of his head. Scott was frozen on his bed not knowing if what he had just seen emanating from the tiny screen was real or not. For this brief moment time seemed to slow down to a crawl.  Five seconds later a man wearing a black bandana across the lower part of his face, much like the bandits who used to rob the stagecoaches in the old west years ago, appeared on screen. The man had long hair highlighted by streaks of gray cascading down his shoulders. He was wearing a black long sleeved tee shirt with the words ‘Free America’ in white letters on his chest.

The masked man pushed the bloody news anchor off the report desk and then casually sat down in his chair placing his dirty cowboy boots on the table as the broadcast continued.  It was obvious to Scott that the man must have had some associates off screen. The long haired man seemed to be in no hurry and was calm considering the circumstances. The bandit looked directly into the camera in front of him with piercing green eyes, eased back in the news anchor chair and began to speak with a southern drawl with grizzled voice.

“How do you like that morning news alert Las Vegas? I think I got everyone’s attention! I never liked this channel anyway or that government employee. Welcome to the first Free America broadcast in Nevada. It’s a good day Free America. Listen up you jerks who work for FEMA and Homeland Security. Every one of you is now marked for death unless you quit your job tomorrow. The car bombings that have been happening in this valley are going to intensify over the next few weeks and so are the assassinations. You have all been judged as accessories to murder and I am the executioner. The dear leader and his minions are not going to be of any help to any FEMA or government employee for the next few weeks. Stay tuned for tomorrow nights broadcast on another channel. This is our declaration of war on FEMA and Homeland Security. They have killed one person too many. This valley will have one less television station to view after today. This is the executioner signing off and by the way, it is going to get hot today in Las Vegas.”

Then Scott watched as the television station transmitted the image of an American eagle that was gliding through the air while the old national anthem of the United States played. Then the broadcast disappeared displaying nothing but white static on the screen for a brief moment and then a test pattern.

Scott was confused by what he just viewed. He had never seen anything like that in his life and he figured most people in the Las Vegas valley had never seen anything like the broadcast he had seen this morning either. The sirens and bells started to ring in the compound which initially startled him. He looked at his clock on the wall and it displayed thirty minutes after five. The alarms at that time were perfectly normal. His door composed of metal bars slid open to the right. It was time for him and his fellow inmates in this section of FEMA camp 37 to go eat in the cafeteria.

He arose from his bed, turned off his television set, which if left on would cause him to receive unwanted demerits, checked his room one last time and exited to the second story walkway leading to the cafeteria located on a lower floor at the end of the building. On the walkway he softly conversed with several of his friends on the way. Some of them had witnessed the violent telecast just minutes ago and none of them knew what to make of what they had just seen. One of the men was a young man the same age as he. His name was Jay who Scott had known since he arrived at FEMA camp 37 ten years ago. Encountering two of their FEMA guards on the way the guards seemed to be acting normal which surprised the two men considering what had been telecast minutes ago. Apparently the guards in the camp had not heard or witnessed the telecast or they were not concerned about what had happened. Scott suspected that they had not been informed.

“Were you watching Channel 13 this morning?” whispered Jay.

“I was. I still can’t believe what happened if it was true. The guy with the bandana was as cool as a cucumber after the murder of the news anchor. I can’t believe we are not under lockdown.  I think we will see a reaction at this camp in a few minutes because of what happened this morning. Right now I just don’t know what is going on or what to expect this morning but I am getting a little scared,” answered Scott.

“Yes. I agree. That television station’s studios are only a mile away from the camp. I thought I heard some explosions right when I exited my room but it might be just my imagination running wild.  Things seem to be too quiet after what I saw on television. We should be hungry by suppertime once FEMA reacts and orders a lock up. Just stay low and do what they say. If what happens is what I think is going to happen eat fast if we get the chance this morning.  I am getting real scared.”

“I am getting real worried Jay. You know some of our guards must have seen on their television sets what happened and yet nothing seems to be happening,” answered Scott while sending quick glances at the armed FEMA guards.

No unusual event occurred on the way to the cafeteria but Scott could tell that several of the FEMA camp residents had also tuned into Channel 13 this morning and had witnessed the savage onscreen murder. There was tension in the air at the cafeteria during breakfast but that was normal. There was always some tension in the air at the start of a usual long work day.  The inmates of FEMA camp 37 were very quiet during breakfast which was not normal. There was no small talk at the breakfast tables this morning and the male inmates seemed to be moving slower than normal and keeping one eye on the armed guards moving about in the big room.

Scott and Jay had just about finished their meal when the sirens and bells started to sound in the compound. Looking at the clock on the cafeteria wall Scott saw that there was still fifteen minutes left before the alarms were to be sounded to signal the end of breakfast. Something was wrong somewhere. Now things were not normal.

“Uh oh Jay, I think we are about to be locked down,” said Scott softly.

The public address system amplified static at first. Finally a voice came over the loud speakers.

“Everyone return to your cells immediately,” was all that was said.

The six armed FEMA guards in the cafeteria immediate removed the assault weapons slung across their backs and held them in a threatening manner motioning for the men at the tables to move in the direction of the cafeteria’s double doors.

The residents of the FEMA camp left their breakfast trays were they were and stood up at their tables at attention. Under armed guard everyone quickly returned to their quarters in an orderly fashion. Now was not the time to tarry, speak or trip over your feet. That was an invitation to be shot or severely beaten. At six in the morning the metal doors and bars slammed shut in every room and locked with a loud click because of magnetic locks. This did not usually happen at this time of day. Lock down for the night usually happened at nine o’clock after supper. Now the big man was beginning to become very worried.

Once Scott returned to his room he switched on his small television set and was surprised to see that the three government channels were still broadcasting but Channel 13 was displaying a test pattern. Switching to Channel 9, another local station, he soon learned what had happened at Channel 13 this morning after the assassination of the news anchor.

On his tiny television screen was the image of multiple fire trucks, ambulances and FEMA as well as numerous Homeland Security vehicles stationed in various parking lots around a large building that was engulfed in massive flames rising into the blue Nevada sky. There were easily over a hundred vehicles parked at crazy angles with blue and red emergency lights flashing. There were firemen and FEMA security personnel, both armed and unarmed, scrambling around the perimeter of the burning building as if searching for someone.  From what he could see on the screen not much was left of the building that Channel Thirteen called home. There was a female reporter on the scene from Channel 9 with a microphone in her hand. The desert wind was blowing her blonde hair wildly about and the young woman had a scared look on her pretty face.

“This is the result of what a lot of people in the Las Vegas valley witnessed this morning on their television sets. Local Nevada terrorists invaded this government facility during the morning broadcast at Channel 13, killed John Corbin while he was on the air along with several more of his associates and technicians and then blew up the station on their way out. So far we have no word…”

Suddenly the female reporter grabbed her chest and fell backward to the asphalt covered parking lot as if she was hit by a hammer. As she lay prone on the ground on her back the cameraman rushed up to her with what he had framed in his shot during the broadcast. A large amount of blood was oozing from the reporters chest and she was not moving. Her white blouse was turning red very quickly. Her brown eyes reflected an empty stare at the blue Nevada sky. There were many screams in the background and what sounded like gunshots. Soon the images on the television screen reflected mass confusion and panic as if the cameraman had boarded a merry go round that was out of control. It looked to Scott that the cameraman or woman had also been shot because the image that was being telecast stopped moving to display a panorama that was being telecast at a ninety degree angle. Then the live telecast ceased and the broadcast was interrupted with the image of a male anchor in a studio that was frozen on the television screen. The male anchor had a look of horror on his face and was saying nothing. His face was pale white. Then the channel went to a test pattern.

Chapter Two

Run to Daylight

Scott watched the small screen with confused thoughts. To him, it appeared that the female reporter had been shot during a live telecast. He quickly arose from his bed and switched to the last local channel that was available in the Las Vegas area which was Channel 3. To his surprise he found another test pattern on screen. He plopped back down on his bed not knowing what to think. Could the death of this reporter on screen been the result of the masked man he had seen on Channel 13 earlier this day? Why would Channel 3 be displaying a test pattern like Channel 9 and 13? He began to wonder because he knew that all three government studios were located at one central location in North Las Vegas. The government had done that to save money.  Apparently the massive fire at the building was Channel 13. His mind was racing when he heard the sounds of many inmates expressing their emotions. Some were cheering and some were cursing loudly. Obviously they had seen what he had just seen on their own television sets.

He walked over to the bars on his door and peered out to view the large common area where FEMA inmates congregated in the evening hours after supper and saw no one on the floor. Every FEMA inmate in this building was under lockdown and there were no guards in the common area.  This was highly unusual. He had never seen this in the past ten years and now he was starting to get very scared. There were always four or five armed guards walking around in the commons during the day and a lot more when there was a test lockdown. At this moment there were none. The chatter and noise from his fellow inmates increased to a point where he was starting to get worried about the armed guards. They had a very bad habit of suppressing any unnecessary noise by using force on FEMA inmates and they never cared who got hurt. Inmates had been killed in the past ten years for not following a simple order like shutting up, sitting down on their bed and staying quiet.

He turned off his television set and stretched out on his bed attempting to think through what had happened so far this strange morning and deal with his fear. He was attempting to put two and two together. That was the only thing he could do for the moment. He certainly didn’t want to be raking his metal cup over his bars when the FEMA guards came by like a lot of his fellow inmates were doing at this moment creating a ruckus. That was a good way of getting pepper sprayed or even shot. To show outright disrespect to an armed FEMA guard who was having a bad day was a good way of getting killed.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been resting on his bed looking at the concrete ceiling with his arms under his head when the first explosion occurred. The explosion was so powerful it knocked him out of his bed to land with a thud on his back on the smooth concrete floor in his small room. The concussion from the explosion shook the building and was so violent he watched as the wall hosting his metal counter top started to slowly crack in several places running from the floor to the ceiling.  At first he was dazed not knowing what had happened and his ears were hurting. Then panic swept through his body as he looked out of his metal door composed of steel bars while lying on the floor. Scott saw thick white and black smoke rapidly swirling in the air above the common area and beginning to spill through the steel bars that barred his exit. The yelling and screaming from nearby inmates in the building intensified.

He staggered to his feet and moved quickly to his cell door and grabbed the metal bars with both hands attempting to move his door. Looking out of his room he could see no FEMA guards moving through the smoke in the areas on the floor of the commons where the smoke was thin. On the second floor where he resided the smoke was starting to get thick.  At that moment when he grabbed the metal bars of his door another massive explosion rocked the entire building knocking him once again off his feet and on his back. He lay prone on the cold concrete floor on his back for many seconds finding it difficult to maintain his awareness of his surroundings. He was stunned and finding it difficult to get any oxygen.  He was feeling pain in his back from the fall and the concussion from the second massive blast nearly knocked him out.  As he was frozen on the floor and having trouble focusing his eyes he found it difficult to concentrate to execute any type of reaction with his body but his mind quickly cleared once he started coughing from all the smoke that was accumulating in his FEMA room. He soon feared that he was going to meet his Maker while lying on the prison floor. Once again he feebly staggered to his feet and grabbed the metal bars on his door and began to scream at the top of his lungs for help like many of the inmates who found themselves trapped in their rooms.

On his second scream for help he felt his cell door move slightly. He discovered that his door was no longer locked barring any escape. He quickly slammed the prison door to his right and stepped out on the upper concrete walkway where he could barely see ten feet in either direction because of all the white and black smoke moving through the air. Now he was coughing heavily and could hear other inmates coughing nearby. He staggered to his right on the upper walkway to where a metal stairway would take him to the main common floor. While feeling his way using the handrail on the walkway he was nearly knocked over the railing by scared men stampeding in panic to escape the deadly smoke. There were many inmates struggling to descend on the metal steps. Most were falling down the flight of steps or over the handrails to heavily land on the hard concrete floor. Several men were lying on the floor not moving after tumbling down the long flight of stairs and many more were lying on the floor trying to move. All this time the smoke continued to pour into the large room growing thicker by the second while the screaming from the inmates and ringing alarm bells continued to fill the air.

Once he reached the main floor of the commons Scott got his bearings and headed for the double door exit to the main exercise yard. At least the smoke on the lower floor was not as thick as it was on the second floor. He looked up to see thick smoke above him and wondered how his fellow inmates on the third through sixth floor could possible escape. While he was looking up he witnessed several black jumpsuit clad bodies falling through the layer of white smoke to impact violently on the concrete floor. The commons floor was starting to get slick with blood making it difficult to walk, much less run.  He could hear the coughing and screaming coming through the smoke from above. Death was occurring everywhere.

As he made his way to the exit in the screaming herd of scared and frightened men he could hear multiple gunshots coming from the main exercise yard. The exercise yard was easily the size of a football field open to the blue sky surrounded by numerous guard towers and a thirty foot tall concrete wall topped with razor wire. If he could manage to get across the common area inside the building without getting trampled to death and to the exercise yard he reasoned he would at least not die of smoke inhalation. Scott would take his chances with bullets flying through the air outside because to stay in the inmate’s building would be certain death. Once outside he would hit the ground, lie very still and wait which was the common drill in the camp if there was any emergency. Several hundred of his fellow inmates were stampeding to the double doors knocking down people in their way to escape the deadly smoke. He jammed his large muscular body into the middle of the herd and moved with the crowd. After fifteen seconds of pushing men in their backs he burst into the exercise yard. Here he would at least be able to breathe.

Or so he was hoping. He found out quickly that he was wrong.

Stumbling out of the double doors into the exercise yard he discovered to his horror there was just as much smoke outside as there was in the interior of the housing unit except this smoke burned your lungs and eyes. The FEMA guards in the multiple guard towers were using tear gas in the exercise yard combining it with the deadly smoke.  Now he was nearly blind and having a lot more trouble breathing. He was starting to get woozy because of a lack of air.

Scott immediately moved to his left to get out of the stampede of panicked men streaming out of the prison building and continued to stagger forward until he reached the exercise yard’s thirty foot tall concrete wall. Then his survival instincts kicked in and he dropped to his hands and knees. Here low to the ground the smoke was not as bad. He continued to stay in this position for thirty seconds until his lungs cleared to some degree as well as his watering eyes. Looking towards the center of the exercise yard he could see legs covered in the standard FEMA black jumpsuit from the knees down running and staggering beneath an eerie ceiling of turbulent, swirling white smoke. Also on the ground were many men rolling around coughing severely clutching their throats and chests. There were also men not moving prone on the exercise yard but due to his watery eyes he could not tell if they had been knocked out or shot by the guards in the towers. The gunshots in the exercise yard increased in frequency and through his watery eyes Scott saw many more inmates fall to the gravel covered ground, not moving. It appeared that the FEMA guards in the towers were firing blindly into the smoke filled area indiscriminately. The guards had no way of targeting any one because of the dense smoke. They were randomly firing their machine guns into the yard in a futile attempt to establish order.

Looking to his left he was surprised by what he saw fifty feet ahead of his present position. At first he could not fathom what he was viewing but after a few seconds he figured it out.

Where there was to be a big thick wall, there was no wall. There was however a lot of large chunks of concrete laying on the prison exercise yard along with a lot of bodies clad in black jumpsuits and the bodies were not moving.

While holding his present position against the prison wall on his hands and knees several large caliber bullets ricocheted off the concrete wall just above his back. He soon realized that if he stayed where he was at he would be a dead man eventually. Looking ahead he reasoned in order to survive he needed to crawl to where the large pieces of concrete rested on the exercise yard near where the wall once stood. At least the large chunks of concrete would offer him some shelter from the bullets flying through the smoky air. He began to crawl quickly on his hands and knees moving across several dead and bloodied bodies of fellow FEMA inmates.

The crawl didn’t take him long. He finally rested behind a large piece of concrete that was easily five feet in height and eight feet in width. He stayed there for a long minute listening to the sirens, bells, gunshots and men yelling, moaning and screaming in pain. The carnage in the prison yard continued while he froze behind the rock clearing his lungs and eyes.

Looking to the east from where he took shelter he saw the sun rising on the eastern horizon barely peeking above the mountains. He realized from the early morning light that what he was viewing was open desert landscape, something he had never seen during his ten year stay. A one hundred foot section of the prison wall no longer existed. He also saw that there was a lot of thick white smoke rolling across the Mojave Desert towards the rising sun. At first he was fascinated by the image of the sun rising. Despite the heavy smoke he could see the sun, but just barely. He had not seen a sunrise in ten years. As he lay behind the chunk of concrete the chaos continued and he was debating what to do next.

Suddenly there were two more loud explosions that occurred somewhere in FEMA camp 37 along with a lot more gunfire. He didn’t know if he found the courage or whether it was fear but the young man jumped to his feet and ran as fast as he could towards the sun while holding his breath. On his hands and knees he could see. Standing up he could not see past his hands because of the thick smoke but he didn’t bother to think about that. He just ran to get a way from the horror not thinking about getting caught outside of FEMA camp 37.

He took off as fast as his muscular legs could carry him getting away from the sounds of death and the increasing gunfire. He wanted to put as much distance as he could behind him. He ran for a long minute and then tripped over something. Hitting the ground hard and sprawling in the desert sand he once again got on his hands and knees and looked underneath the thick smoke in the direction from where he fled. He had tripped over a good sized desert rock but thankfully his heavy duty FEMA boots protected the toes on his right foot. Still, all he saw was a layer of thick smoke churning two feet above the desert floor resembling a moving white ceiling of death. Now he was constantly coughing finding it difficult to clear his lungs. He saw no other legs moving in the clear air in his direction but he could still hear a lot of screaming and gunfire coming from the FEMA camp’s direction.  He held his position letting his eyes and lungs clear for a brief moment as he heard bullets whizzing through the smoke above his body.

Then he jumped up and ran again towards the sun in the smoky air. After four or five minutes of running the smoke started to thin out to some degree and he could finally see twenty to thirty feet in front of him.

He came across a desert ravine at least eight feet in depth and twenty feet wide. He jumped down in the trough landing on his feet not moving and not knowing what to do next. He kneeled down in the bottom of the ravine attempting to catch his breath. His heart was racing as well as his mind. He knew at this point if he was captured by any FEMA guards outside the walls of the camp that he would be executed on the spot. He didn’t feel safe by any means but at least he was alive.

Suddenly he heard a man’s gruff voice directly behind him, which about gave him a heart attack. The voice carried a distinctive southern accent.  He turned quickly while still on his knees. What he saw made him freeze like a deer in headlights. He immediately recognized the source of the voice. It was the man he had seen on Channel 13 this morning, the one who had killed the television anchor.

“That was a fairly nice landing considering you were hauling ass! Here youngster, you need to put this plastic mask on your face for a minute or two to clear your lungs. We can stay here for a minute or two but we have to haul ass after that. Welcome to freedom,” said the long haired older man while handing the oxygen mask to Scott.

Scott placed the oxygen mask on his face which helped him greatly. He finally began to quit hacking and clear his mind.

As he kneeled with the oxygen mask on his face he watched as several men were surveying the clear air under the smoke near the surface of the desert. The sirens and gunshots echoing from FEMA camp 37 continued.

Scott turned and saw several young and middle aged men carrying assault rifles wearing military gas masks standing against the rock walls of the desert ravine. He estimated there were ten to twelve men moving about. Most of the men were peering above the crest of a small ridge that paralleled the deep desert ditch keeping a watchful eye in the direction of FEMA camp 37 and on the clear air under the layer of smoke that ran from the ravine to the destroyed camp wall. It looked to Scott as if they were waiting on someone’s arrival. Waiting two more minutes Scott removed the oxygen mask from his face.

His lungs were feeling a lot better than they did two minutes ago.

“Feeling better?” asked the long haired old man.

Scott turned his body with the oxygen mask in his hand and found he was face to face with the stranger.

“Yes sir,” he answered.

“You don’t have to call me sir youngster. What is your name?”

“Scott. My name is Scott Nomma. Government designation 4x6331,” he answered with a subdued voice.

The old man laughed briefly.

“Okay Scott or 4x6331 or whatever the hell you just said. Here is a spare gas mask that you might keep handy for the moment. Hopefully we won’t need any gas masks and in a few more minutes we will be hauling butt down this ravine to a safer location. So just relax for now and enjoy the show. This early morning matinee will be over fairly soon.”

The old man turned and spoke to a tan muscular young man with a crew cut for a brief moment. The young man turned and motioned to another man and the pair took off running down the ravine to the west.

The old man turned and continued to peer under the thick blanket of smoke in the direction of the prison camp.

Scott finally managed the courage to stand up and he moved closer to the old man standing next to him.

“Are you looking for something sir?” he asked.

“No. I am not looking for anything in particular youngster. And quit calling me sir. My name is Zachariah but my friends call me Zak. My enemies call me worse. I am waiting here to see if any more of your buddies have the guts to do what you just did. So far the pickings have been fairly slim.”

The old man continued to watch the narrow window of clear air between the desert floor and the thick layer of grey smoke for another minute as the automatic gunfire resonating from FEMA camp 37 increased. Finally he spoke.

“Okay men, we have some more action. Everyone focus on what is at hand.”

Scott turned to look in the direction the old man was focused on. He could see several pairs of black jumpsuit clad legs running through the smoke in his general direction. The pairs of legs were moving frantically underneath the layer of smoke.  One pair of legs was far in front of another group of five pairs of legs.

The person in the lead stumbled across the same rock Scott had stumbled across. The inmate quickly jumped up and started to run again. All Scott could make out for that brief moment was the person who fell had blonde hair. After the inmate jumped up the body disappeared from the knees up into the thick smoke.

“Georgia Boy, fire off those back up smoke rocks now!” exclaimed the old man.

Scott watched as several desert rocks lying on the ground in the direction of FEMA camp 37 began to emanate thick clouds of white smoke accentuating what was already existing. The same rock he had stumbled over started to produce thick columns of white smoke that melded with the already existing layer.

As the inmate in the forefront of the fleeing FEMA inmates stumbled over the edge of the deep desert ravine falling forward into the bottom of the trench intense automatic gunfire erupted from the general direction of the camp. Two of the five remaining FEMA inmates fleeing across the desert fell to the ground.

“Open fire men! Avoid the inmate’s legs!” ordered the old man using a walkie talkie.

Immediately hundreds of rounds of automatic gunfire erupted from the desert ravine. The insurgents were firing blindly into the heavy smoke in the direction of the opening of the destroyed thirty foot concrete wall. The heavy gunfire continued until the three remaining FEMA inmates fell into the ditch ten feet away from where Scott was standing.

Several of the old man’s men helped the fleeing inmates to their feet. There were two surprises. One of the fleeing inmates was a young blonde woman and one of the three refugees was Scott’s good friend Jay. The other two men he did not recognize.

The old man once again used his walkie talkie.

“Okay men, round up every one and let’s get to the hideaway. FEMA has some choppers on the way and our smoke cover won’t last much longer. Let’s move it!”

The old man started to walk briskly to the west staying in the bottom of the ravine. Soon he was joined by thirty people including what appeared to be to Scott mostly former FEMA inmates.

As the old man walked he took out what looked to be a television remote control and held it over his head while pressing a red button on its side. Scott heard several more violent explosions erupting from the general area of FEMA camp 37 and the white smoke continued to hang over the desert. As he walked beside the old man he turned and said to Scott.

“Some of those desert rocks, like the one you tripped over, not only generate smoke they also can generate a tremendous explosion. Georgia Boy was once a stucco guy and he can make one pound of nitro or dynamite look like a typical rock in the desert. I have a lot of talented men and women that are good friends of mine that have the same desires I have.”

The group of men and women began to walk and sometimes trot down the ravine to the west as the gunfire and explosions from the direction of FEMA camp 37 started to fade. This activity continued for thirty minutes. During this time the wide ditch started to narrow and get deeper and now the blue desert sky was obstructed by brush and natural occurring desert foliage. It didn’t take long for the sun to rise in the Nevada desert.

Finally the old man, who was leading the group, stopped and turned to his right. In the wall of natural rock was a five foot by eight foot impression in the natural terrain. It looked like a natural occurring desert cave that was to be found all over the Mojave Desert in its ravines. Walking in fifteen feet along with the old man Scott could faintly make out the outline of a door. Beside the door were several kerosene lamps. The old man picked up one and handed the remainder to a few of his men. As he lighted his lamp the old man spoke.

“Ringo! Did you cover our tracks and put out the poison?” he asked.

“We sure did! Me and three of our guys brushed out our tracks and I personally distributed the poison. I think we can’t be tracked.”

Scott took a hard look at the young man the old man had identified as Ringo. Ringo appeared to be either Mexican or Native American and of which Scott wasn’t sure. He had a head band mounted on the top of his forehead to maintain control of his long jet black hair which hung to middle of his back. Ringo also had very brown skin and looked to be in his mid twenties. He had a set of white teeth that people would kill for and the big grin to go with those teeth. The old man noticed that Scott was looking at Ringo intently.

“Ringo is half Mexican and half Arapaho Indian. He is one of the best scouts I have. He was a senior at UCLA when he was sixteen years old when all hell broke loose in California. He escaped when the FEMA bus was transporting his family to the camp up by Reno. He managed to get away and I found him wondering in the Nevada desert eight years ago. He was majoring in chemistry at the school which was a fortunate thing for me. He is damn good at making explosives and smoke bombs, I will say that.”

“So what poison are we talking about?” asked Scott turning to Ringo, who was about the same size he was. Ringo was a big man.

“It’s a combination of rat poison, anti freeze and colorless baby powder. Once one of those tracking dogs lift the powder into their noses they will be seizing within two minutes. If the guards get the animal to a hospital within an hour they can save the mutt. I didn’t want to make the poison so the concoction would kill a dog, only disable it. I love dogs. It’s the damn FEMA guards I want to kill,” replied Ringo.

“Satisfied?” asked the old man.

Scott tentatively nodded his head yes.

The old man reached above the rough wood trim that framed the stout cave door and found a large skeleton key. He inserted the key into the door lock, twisted the handle and entered. Once inside he walked approximately twenty feet holding the lantern high over his head and reached to his right to throw a small lever. The interior of the underground room became illuminated with adequate florescent lighting powered by some car batteries sitting on a rustic wood bench against the dirt wall.

Once the lights came on everyone entered the hidden bunker and Scott started to look around. There were tables laden with more ammo, canned food and most importantly bottled water. There were many folding chairs and folding cots. At the back of the room forty feet away was another door.

“Another room?” asked Scott pointing at the door.

“That is a very important room. That is the latrine with a light. I did my best thinking in that room for the last few days. There is also an aerosol can in there, clean linen by Glade I think. The only real rule in this cave is cave residents use the aerosol can when you are done with your business. We call it the courtesy spray,” answered the old man.

Some of his men laughed.

“Okay, every one pay attention! You are now at least free. What you want to do next is up to you and I will be the first to admit that your options are few. My name is Zachariah and I am the leader of Free America in Nevada. We are going to hide in this hole in the ground until nightfall and maybe a little longer than that because that depends on FEMA and Homeland Security. We have plenty of food and water for a few days. When we are sure we can leave with some degree of safety you have the choice of going out into the world alone or joining us in our struggle. We will send you on your journey with whatever you think you need if we have it like guns, food and water. North Las Vegas is nearby if you think you can meld back into the world and good luck if you can. Or you can decide to stand and fight for Free America where there is a damn good chance that you will be killed…someday. Besides myself there are twelve members of the Free America movement in this underground room that you are more than free to speak with. You don’t have to make a decision right now but I plan on getting out of here as soon as possible. So eat, drink and rest for now. I am fairly sure we are safe for the moment. Are there any questions?”

Several of the new arrivals raised their hands. The old man pointed at the young blonde who arrived at the ravine after Scott.

“I do. What am I to do next? I don’t know any one in this room and I am scared.”

The old man paused for a long moment while sizing up the young woman. She was a very good looking woman.

“I can understand that. Hell, I was scared too! I just told you that you have two options left in your life now. Actually, you have three. You can either try to sneak back to Las Vegas and go from there or you can join Free America which would be the less of two evils I reckon or you can surrender to the FEMA authorities which would probably get you raped and then executed because of your looks, your body and what you just did a half hour ago. Why did you run if you were comfortable with your existence?” was all he asked.

“The FEMA guards were trying to kill everyone in the exercise yard!” she exclaimed.

“Why were the guards trying to kill you? Did you do something to make them want to kill you?”

“Because they could not see me I guess!”

“Or maybe because you fled your cell? You were a bad girl!”

“If I had stayed in my cell I would have died from smoke inhalation! Weren’t you the one who forced my decision? Weren’t you the one who created all the smoke?”

“Yeah, I reckon I did young lady. I reckon that is a pretty tough decision, to be free or live as a slave the rest of your life. Duh.”

The old man walked over to the light switch on the dirt wall that he had used before and threw the switch plunging the underground room into pitch black darkness. The only light to be seen was daylight showing through the uneven cracks of the entrance door.

Not a sound was to be heard. After ten seconds he turned the lights on.

“My men and I could not see you just now and no one tried to kill anyone. There’s a door over there to the outside with daylight shining through it and I didn’t see you move. I guess I could have set off a smoke bomb to motivate you to change your life. If there was smoke we would have made an effort to get everyone out safely, not kill you. Next question!” he exclaimed.

There was nervous laughter in the room. The old man had made his point.

Scott raised his hand. He was sitting directly in front of the leader of the resistance movement.

“Ah yes! We have a question from the first prisoner who mustered enough courage to run from the death camp to get away. Ask your question young man,” ordered the old man.

“It is obvious to me that going back to FEMA camp 37 now would be a sure death sentence for me or anyone else who fled. For a person to either go to Las Vegas or out into the desert alone even fully armed would also be a death sentence eventually. So that leaves a person the choice of living in an underground bunker for the rest of their life. I am twenty six and that doesn’t sound very attractive to me but it seems that is the only rational choice I have.”

The old man and several of his associates laughed.

“We don’t live here…what was your name again?” asked the old man.

“Scott. My name is Scott.”

“I’m sorry. I am terrible with names but I never forget a face. We don’t live here Scott. Our base is sixty miles away and our base is a lot different than what you see here. We just converted this old mining cave to accommodate the operation we just executed. We have been planning this operation for weeks. We just had to wait until the desert wind wasn’t blowing. What surprises me is we blew six large openings in that camp and only twenty people ran out to freedom. The last I heard there were two hundred thousand people in FEMA camp 37. I guess Americans are getting comfortable with being slaves for the government.”

“So, this is an open invitation to join your ranks?” asked Scott.

The old man sighed before answering his question. It was so quiet in the underground room a person could hear a cricket chirping outside the open mine door.  After a long minute the old man answered Scott’s question.

“We need men and women willing to fight for freedom and maybe more importantly, not scared of dying to accomplish that goal. That is not on any job application you will ever see in your life but I reckon that is the most honest answer I can give you. To live in a FEMA camp until the government decides that you are no longer useful and then march you off into a gas oven is not my idea of having a life. If anyone joins us I can promise you that the people with you will give our best effort. If not, as I stated previously, there are some weapons on the table by the wall and some provisions. You are free to leave at any time once it is safe and there will be no hard feelings. As far as I am concerned, along with the men I run with now, we have done our job. We have freed you and you were the one who ran to freedom. You made the choice, not me or any of men. Personally I think you made a very wise choice and an even wiser choice if you decide to fight to be free.”

A young man who appeared to be in his early twenties stood up.

“Sir, I would like to return to Las Vegas. I have family there.”

The old man walked over the sandy floor of the musty, underground room to stand directly in front of the young man.

“I reckon that is a reason I can’t argue with. What is your name youngster?”

“Jimmy,” he answered.

“Okay Jimmy. How old are you?”

“I just turned twenty three last month.”

“How long have you been in the FEMA camp?” the old man asked.

“Six years.”

“So you were thrown in a FEMA camp when you were seventeen! At that age you should have been enjoying your senior year in high school! Why, if you don’t mind telling me, were you sent to the FEMA camp in the first place?”

“My employer tested me for drugs. They found out that I had smoked a joint the day before.”

There was silence in the underground bunker. Usually, if a person was caught using any type of illegal drug by the government the sentence was death by hanging.

The old man laughed.

“That’s too bad but that makes me feel good. In my younger years I used to enjoy a big fat doobie every now and then. I would have been sent to a FEMA camp when I was in junior high school if things were as shitty back then as they are now days! Have you ever handled a firearm, Jimmy?”

“No sir. I have never fired a gun in my life and I don’t want one now. If I could just have a jug of water and maybe a little food I know that I can make it back to the city.”

“Okay Jimmy. That is the dumbest thing you can do in your young life but it is your life. You will be free to go your own way when we leave and if I was you I would at least grab a gun. That may be tonight.”

“Why can’t I leave now?” protested the young man.

“Because if you leave now you will surely be caught by FEMA patrols if not killed and that would heighten FEMA’s attention to this immediate area. Plus once the guards, if they did take you alive which they probably will right now, put some hot iron to you somewhere on your body or cigarettes on your eyes, I think you would probably sing like a canary and tell them where we are hiding. We have a lot of work invested in this hideout and I certainly don’t want to die in some Nevada ravine because someone who has been locked up for six years suddenly wants to go home because I just freed him.  When we leave you may leave,” said the old man.

“I thought you said I was free!”

“Shut up! You are but I am not going to jeopardize the rest of the people in this room for some stupid kid who thinks he is a junior Rambo without a gun! You will leave when the rest of us leave!” exclaimed the old man.

The old man stepped forward to where he was face to face with the young man. He glared into the young man’s eyes. The young man sat down on his folding chair and looked at the dirt floor.

Zak turned around and spoke to the rest of the group.

“Is there anyone else who desires to leave with Jimmy tonight or when I say they are free to leave?” he asked.

Two more hands raised into the air.

“Okay. You two move your chairs over here to sit next to Jimmy. Tonight when it gets dark you may leave, maybe. That is when I will give you any weapons that we can spare along with some food and water. To give you a small chance of succeeding I will order Ringo and Georgia Boy to accompany the three of you to the west in the bottom of the ravine for a mile or two so you won’t be near our hideout. The three of you may make it to North Las Vegas but I doubt it. That is all open desert landscape north of the city and none of you look like the type to get through the killing field unscathed. I suggest you three relax for now and rest up for tonight.”

The old man walked to stand outside the door to the abandoned mine as most of the new arrivals arose to get something to eat and drink. While standing outside the door with two of his guards Ringo walked outside to smoke a cigarette and join him. Ten seconds later Georgia Boy joined them. He was a big blonde headed man from Georgia who the old man had freed from a FEMA transport six years ago. He was a big muscular fellow who was transported to Nevada because of his computer and electronic skills. Georgia Boy was also ex-military. He was a loyal member of the old man’s small resistance group.

“You do realize that the kid and his friends are committing suicide?” asked Ringo.

“Yeah, I know that. But I am too tired to argue with him or his friends plus we don’t have the time. We got twenty freedom fighters today I think. Better to thin the herd now than later. Just make sure when they choose their weapons to give them just single shot weapons and to give them the ammo when they leave the ravine. I don’t want to lose any automatics because of those three fools,” answered the old man.

“You know that after today FEMA along with Homeland Security is going to know who and how many inmates are missing and they will be saturating the desert looking for them tonight. Plus they will obviously figure out that they are probably heading to North Las Vegas to hide in the city. If the FEMA goons haven’t seen all the escapees by now they know they are lying low so they are waiting for the night. I doubt if they think the inmates are concentrated in one space. It is probably driving them crazy by now that they haven’t found one escaped prisoner,” said Georgia Boy.

“I agree with Georgia Boy. Who the hell would head north out into the desert? I am sure there are hundreds of snipers already stationed out in the killing field between here and Las Vegas. Those three men don’t stand a chance,” said Ringo.

“I know that! How is security Ringo?” asked the old man.

“Little Jimbo and Big Jimbo are out in the field. They just contacted me a few minutes ago and reported that so far six dogs have peeled over because of the poison I spread in the field so the FEMA agents have withdrawn their ground search teams for now. I think we have them worried that might be a stronger poison on the ground then what there is.”

“That is some good news at least. Tell those two to keep their eyes open for what remains for the day. I want you and Georgia Boy to escort these three knuckleheads to the east at seven o’clock tonight when it is dark for one mile and then haul ass back to the safe house.”

“You don’t want us to escort them to the end of the ravine?” asked Ringo.

“No. When they are nailed by the snipers that will identify the ravine we are in. After one mile tell them to crawl out of this ditch and head for North Las Vegas. That should give us the time and a distraction to head double back to the east and get the hell out of here.”

“Why don’t we just kill them?” asked Georgia Boy.

“I was thinking about that but decided against it. We can use their hard headed attitudes to cover our escape. Once the snipers nail them FEMA will concentrate its efforts in that sector looking for everyone else. Let’s just keep an eye on those three idiots for the remaining hours. I think Jimmy would rat fink on us in a heartbeat,” said the old man.

* * * * *

Chapter Three

Leaving Las Vegas Ain’t Easy

The warm day passed without any traumatic events. Several times during the day Homeland Security helicopters passed over the mine where the freedom fighters had taken refuge searching for escaped FEMA inmates but so far things were good. The desert was crawling with FEMA patrols in the area between FEMA camp 37 and Las Vegas during the early part of the day but that was a very large area marred with thousands of desert ravines and thick patches of scrub brush. Plus the poison spread a various locations in the killing field had hampered the government’s search. After not locating any escaped inmates FEMA along with Homeland Security authorities had concluded the escapees might have reached the city and were concentrating their efforts within the boundaries of North Las Vegas and Las Vegas proper. The authorities had been slow to react because of all the carnage earlier in the day. A large amount of FEMA camp inmates had been killed along with a surprising number of government personnel. The massive bombs had been well placed.

It was now seven o’clock at night and was dark outside. There was no moon hanging in the black Nevada sky tonight. It was a good night to move unseen in the desert.

The old man had been resting comfortably for most of the day on one of the canvas cots in the hideout cave. He got up when his travel alarm went off and walked over to the table supporting the food, water and weapons. His small field alarm had also awoken everyone who was sleeping in the underground bunker except for his assigned guards who were on high alert at the entrance. Ringo and Georgia Boy were keeping a sharp eye on the three men who wanted to leave this night.

“Okay Jimmy, it is now time for you and your friends to leave. The North Las Vegas city limits sign is roughly six miles away so you should have plenty of time to reach the city if you know how to move during the night. Take what you think you need and good luck,” said the old man waving his hand at the supply table.

The three men walked up to the table and selected some candy bars and one two liter bottle of water.

“Don’t you three want to carry some weapons?” asked the old man.

“That won’t do us any good other than getting us killed,” replied Jimmy.

The old man nodded his head yes. The young man confused him. To the old man, it seemed like he wanted to die needlessly. It was probably for the better the old man reasoned. The young man didn’t seem the type that was willing to fight and die to be free. Neither did the two men who had elected to join him.

“Georgia Boy and Ringo are going to escort you for a mile. They will show you where the best place is for you to exit out of this ravine. Good luck fellows and stay low.”

“May I go with the escort?” asked Scott.

“I would like to go also,” said the young blonde woman suddenly.

This surprised the old man.

“Why?” he asked.

“Just to make sure Jimmy and his friends get that far,” answered Scott.

The statement did not make the old man happy.

“What? What do you think my boys are going to do, kill them?” exclaimed the old man.

“That thought occurred to me,” answered the young blonde woman.

“For why in God’s name would you two think that? If I was going to do that, why wouldn’t I kill you two both now for just asking such a question?”

The old man’s response made the blonde woman and Scott a little uneasy.

“Because Jimmy and his two friend’s irrational behavior would jeopardize everyone in this bunker and their behavior is still probably jeopardizing everyone in the cave. It would make sense to me to kill the three of them somewhere down the desert ravine before they make their escape attempt and those two big escorts look to me like they could kill those three boys anytime the want,” answered Scott.

The old man laughed and shook his head.

“Really? So you think you and that little blonde haired girl could stop something like that if I wanted it done?  Once you two get to know Ringo and Georgia Boy you two will look back on this night and realize how stupid the both of you sound right now. You two freed inmates are pretty sharp however. Sure, you two can accompany Georgia Boy and Ringo along with young Jimmy and his friends. And to answer your question, just so we start to get know each other better, that thought crossed my mind also but I let it pass. The FEMA snipers in the desert are going to take care of that problem, trust me. I want you two to go to see that me and my men know what is about to happen tonight. We have been fighting these fuckers for a long time now. Go and keep your heads down. Ringo, make sure you have plenty of cover for observation. I want you along with Georgia Boy and our two guests to stay long enough so they can watch what happens to Jimmy and his buddies. Take a couple of extra pair of binoculars to keep an eye on Jimmy and his two friends until… you can see them no more. What is your name girl?” asked the old man.

“My name is Amanda.”

“Amanda. I think you and I are going to get along well in life. Here. Take my binoculars with you and I want to stress to you to keep low in the ravine and to stay out of sight.  Most importantly, be as quiet as you can when you move in the bottom of the ravine. FEMA has some enhanced sound amplifiers so no talking unless absolutely necessary and then you just whisper if you have too. If FEMA picks up your location because of a big mouth you will have a lot of unwanted company within a minute or two. In other words you are probably dead,” concluded Zak.

Once Jimmy and his two friends were ready they exited the underground bunker with Georgia Boy and Ringo, who were carrying automatic AK47s in their arms, along with Amanda and Scott who were carrying binoculars. The small group headed west in the ravine towards North Las Vegas.

Once they exited the old man turned to address the remaining group of scouts and escaped inmates.

“Okay. Everyone get up and get ready to leave! We have no choice now!  In fifteen or twenty minutes this place is going to get busy. Move it if you want to go with me and survive this night!”

* * * * *

`Once exiting the underground bunker Ringo turned right to head towards the bright lights of North Las Vegas. The five men and woman followed behind. The going was slow because there was little light this night so the deep desert ditch was extremely dark and there were a lot of loose rocks on the ground. No one was speaking a word. The group had heeded what the old man had warned.

After thirty minutes Ringo stopped. There was small ravine emptying into the one they were in that formed a natural ramp that was aligned with the bright lights of North Las Vegas. He motioned for everyone to kneel where they were standing.

“Okay Jimmy. This is a good as spot as any to enter the desert. You and your friends need to move from one large scrub bush to another scrub bush and stay as low to the ground as possible. Try to stay on your hands and knees and watch out for rattlesnakes. Whatever you do, don’t stand up and look around. If you do that you will probably be shot.  Zak is correct in saying there are FEMA and Homeland Security snipers lurking out there with infra red sensors. Just take your time, move as deliberately as possible and keep low. Good luck young man,” said Ringo with a very quiet voice.

Jimmy peeked above the crest of the ridge running along the ravine and then shook hands with Ringo. Motioning to his two friends they entered the sloping ditch which ran ninety feet perpendicular to the main gorge that they had moved through after departing the underground bunker.

Once the three men got to the shallow end of the lesser ravine they crawled out on their hands and knees and disappeared into the darkness. Ringo and Georgia Boy continued to stay stationary under a large scrub tree growing out of the ridge of the main ravine. Scott and Amanda watched Jimmy and his two friends move from desert scrub to desert scrub with the binoculars. Both of the new freed inmates watched the three men’s progress for twenty minutes or maybe longer with their borrowed lenses. No one was referring to their wrist watches.

Ten minutes later Amanda leaned close to Ringo’s ear and whispered.

“I think they are doing well.”

Ringo looked back at her with surprise on his face.

“At the rate they are moving, they will cover the distance in maybe twenty hours. The killing field covers nine square miles. They need to move faster or make plans to hide during the heat of the day. I personally think that the FEMA and Homeland Security snipers already have them in their sights. All three of them are kicking up too much desert dust when they move. We don’t have infrared protection clothing to give them an edge but what I do know other than the three of them kicking up too much dust is that this is a suicide run and an experienced scout from Free America would never attempt to go to North Las Vegas across this field. We are going to be leaving in a few minutes but I think the end is near. All three of them are starting to crouch instead of staying low to the ground.”

Scott and Amanda continued to stay low against the earth bank watching Jimmy’s progress with their high powered binoculars.

Suddenly Amanda gasped.

“Somebody just stood up to look around!” she whispered.

At that moment a shot rang out in the night. Amanda and Scott watched as whoever stood up violently thrust forward several feet. A sniper’s bullet had found its target.

Amanda uttered a loud no and sat down. She started to cry loudly.

“Sshh! You must be quiet! FEMA has sound amplifiers! Are you trying to get us killed?” whispered Georgia Boy less than a foot from her ear.

The young woman continued to sob when suddenly, Georgia Boy hit Amanda on the top of her head with the butt of a pistol he was carrying. The young woman fell to the sand covered floor knocked out.

“Stupid damn bitch!” he said softly.

Scott froze, especially when Georgia Boy aimed the gun directly at his chest.

Then many shots rang out echoing across the desert floor. Scott watched as two more men spun in the air easily viewed with his binoculars and then disappeared into the desert scrub brush. He continued to watch through his binoculars without making a sound. He was frozen with fear and his body began to shake.

As Scott continued to watch several vehicles turned on powerful spotlights from afar heading to the location where Jimmy and his two friends had been terminated. The three men had moved less the two hundred yards away from their present location.

“It is time to go! There will be helicopters overhead with infrared sensors within five minutes. We need to move it now!” whispered Ringo.

The two men moved back to the dark bottom of the ravine.

Scott quickly lowered his binoculars and turned to face the two departing scouts.

“Wait! What about Amanda?”

“That’s your problem buddy. Leave her there if you want to live,” answered Georgia Boy.

Then Ringo and Georgia Boy disappeared into the dark ravine heading back in the direction of the underground bunker.

Scott hesitated for a brief moment. Every fiber in his body and mind instructed him to retreat to survive. Looking at the unconscious blonde for a brief moment he hesitated for a few more seconds. As helicopters started to appear on the horizon coming from Nellis Air Force base he reached down and slung the young blonde over his shoulders executing a fireman’s carry. Thankfully the blonde woman only weighed a hundred and ten pounds. Immediately the big man knew this rescue was going to be a difficult task.

He moved down into the bottom of the ravine and headed in the direction Ringo and Georgia Boy had fled. This was a slow and excruciating task with a hundred plus pounds on his shoulders. He was trying to stay low and after moving one hundred yards the pain in his lower back started to build. He knew he still had a long ways to go to the underground bunker.

As he moved he could hear men’s voices and machines crossing the desert in the night. The Homeland Security and FEMA forces were closing on his location.  He continued to make his way along the bottom of the rock strewn desert ravine as he could. After ten minutes of sheer torture Amanda started to move on his shoulders. He gently placed the young blonde on the ground next to the ravine wall. After slapping her face gently for a few seconds she finally awoke.

“What happened!” she exclaimed in a loud voice.

“Sshh,” he said softly.

Luckily the roar and sounds of arriving helicopters over the area of Jimmy and his two friend’s bodies covered the sound of her question.

“We need to get moving and you need to be quiet! Georgia Boy popped you on the noggin to knock you out once you continued to cry. FEMA is less than a half a mile away and we need to put some distance on our side of the balance sheet. Can you walk?” he asked.

Amanda shakily got to her feet.

“I think so. That son of a bitch,” she said softly while feeling the top of her head.

Scott felt the top of her head and there was a good sized goose egg.

“We need to move it or we will be left behind. I am sure Zak and the rest of his men with the FEMA inmates are already heading west. We need to hustle and catch up with them if we want to live and see another sunrise. Are you ready to travel or do I have to carry you?” asked Scott.

“No. Other than having a splitting headache I think I can walk so I can follow you. Lead the way.”

At that moment Scott could see a helicopter approaching where their location in the desert ravine. Thankfully there was a deep pocket cut into the ravine wall. He grabbed Amanda’s hand and dragged her into the shallow opening.

They had moved into the opening for just ten seconds when the desert ravine was brightly illuminated with powerful spotlights. Scott peered out of his hiding spot.

“Oh shit! I think they can see our footprints.”

He watched as the FEMA helicopter hovered just above their shallow cavern a measly thirty feet off the desert floor. Scott watched as the wash from the helicopter’s blades obliterated any evidence of footprints on the ravine floor. By the grace of God the helicopter moved in the direction of where the FEMA desert vehicles with their large light arrays on roll bars converged on Jimmy’s body. The FEMA vehicles were experiencing difficulty navigating around the numerous ravines located on the desert terrain known as the killing field.

He grabbed Amanda’s hand once again and headed west.  The young woman stumbled several times during the first ten seconds.

“I don’t feel good,” she said suddenly moving her right hand to her forehead.

Then she collapsed on the floor of the ravine.

Once again Scott lifted the young woman’s limp body across his broad shoulders. This time he literally ran in the bottom of the deep desert ditch almost falling with the load on his shoulders several times. He was starting to panic thinking he and Amanda had been left behind and now they were on their own. For the second time in his young life he was worried about dying.

Thanks to his rock hard constitution because of prison life and his exercise schedule every day in the FEMA gym he managed to stay on his feet each time he stumbled because of a loose rock on the ravine floor. The gorge was deep in this part of his journey so he ceased in keeping low to the ground and ran erect with Amanda on his shoulders which reduced the nagging pain in his lower back. After another ten minutes of hustling he arrived at the underground bunker where they had left an hour before.

Bursting inside he found the underground bunker had been abandoned. There was no ammo, food or water on the tables against the earthen wall.  He turned with his load and exited through the stout wooden door frame back into the ravine.

As he started to head west following the ravine he heard a familiar voice speak from the shadows but even so the voice startled him greatly. He was breathing hard from the excruciating trip along the bottom of the gorge.

“Take it easy big boy. We have some time. Put the young lady down here in the entrance and let’s give her time to come around.”

The voice belonged to Zak.

Scott lowered Amanda gently once again to the gravel covered entrance to the underground bunker and then sat down also, placing his right hand on his back. He was experiencing a lot of pain in his lower back.

“That son of a bitch Georgia Boy hit her in the head with the butt of his pistol knocking her out because she was crying loudly. I couldn’t bring myself to leave her out in the desert to die. It just didn’t seem right.”

The old man kneeled with a flashlight in his one hand and a wet cloth in the other.

“I know. He told me what he did and it’s a good thing he did. You both would probably be dead right now along with my two good men. Georgia Boy saved your life as well as this young lady’s life by doing that.”

He reached into a pocket in his sleeveless vest and produced a small plastic canister. He removed the lid and shook out a small stark white tablet. He carefully replaced the lid and placed the container back in his vest pocket. Then he handed the aspirin sized tablet with a bottle of water he had resting beside his body to Scott.

“Here. Take this tablet while I tend to Amanda. The pill will ease the pain in your back in just a few minutes.”

“What is it?” asked Scott.

“It is a pill called oxycodine, a class two narcotic, which is damn good medicine for pain especially in your back. Ringo makes those pills for many of my elderly patriots for their aches and pains. I usually take one every morning because of an injury to my back I had years ago. You will feel better in a few minutes. Let’s see if we can get this dizzy blonde back into operation right now. We may have to carry her out of here which is not going to be an easy task because I have a backpack that we need to take with us. We have to get the hell out of here as soon as we can. The government goons will be out with their damn dogs soon and we don’t have any poison spread out in this ravine.”

Scott took the tablet along with the bottle of water and swallowed the pill washing it down with a gulp.

“Don’t worry about that! I can carry her!”

“For two hundred and forty miles youngster?”

“For two hundred and forty miles? Why for two hundred and forty miles?”

“Because that is how far it is to my base of operations.”

“Good lord! I figured you operated out of Las Vegas!”

“Nah, too many FEMA snoops and citizen rat finks. I am out in the high desert in a place nobody would dream of anybody living there. You will see if you plan on joining us. Right now we have to get to another bunker that is twenty or so rough miles away from here to the northwest. Our path will be along a fault line so we won’t be out in the open but it is not an easy hike. The only thing that might get us is God if he decides to have an earthquake. Let’s see if we can get Amanda up and running.”

“What if we can’t?”

“Then she stays here to be caught eventually I reckon. She is not worth dying for.”

The old man emptied the container of bottled water on Amanda’s head. The water brought the young woman around.

“What? What happened?” she mumbled with a confused voice.

“Here. You need to take this pain pill. It will make your headache go away in a few minutes. We have to go now!” ordered the old man.

The young woman took the pill along with a swig of water. Once that task was completed she found it difficult to get off the gravel floor.

Zak helped her to her feet. In the distance they could hear the engines of helicopters circling over the desert far away along with the roar of all terrain vehicles. The FEMA security forces were attempting to perform a methodical search of the area but were finding it difficult to do so because of the numerous ravines marring the terrain.

“What happened?” she asked again.

“Scott saved your life. Are you ready to walk?” asked Zak.

“I think so but I am still a little woozy.”

“Help her out Scott. We need to go now!”

The old man exited the hideout with his AK47 in his arms and turned to his left heading west. Scott placed Amanda’s left arm around his shoulders and they both moved to follow Zak.

After ten minutes of making progress Amanda pulled her left arm off Scott’s shoulder.

“I am feeling better. Whatever you gave me has helped.”

“That is good news. We need to make up some lost time and get away from this quadrant as quickly as we can,” said the old man while looking to the south.

He began to jog to the west in the bottom of the ravine. Scott and Amanda followed his lead. The jogging continued for thirty minutes. Scott was finding it hard to believe that the elderly man was in such good shape. Both he and Amanda were breathing hard from the demands of the run. Finally the old man stopped beneath the cover of a large desert scrub bush that was growing horizontally over the ravine. Scott noticed that the old man was not even breathing hard.

The three of them sat down on some boulders in the bottom of the ravine to rest for a few minutes. The old man offered them his canteen. Being the gentleman he handed the canteen first to Amanda.

“Here. Have a healthy swig of this. It will give you some energy. It looks like the both of you are out of shape. How do you feel?”

“The top of my head is sore to touch. Other than that I feel then I did thirty minutes ago. How much farther do we have to hike?”

Then she took a big swig out of the canteen. At first, she gulped down the liquid. Then she abruptly lowered the canteen as her eyes grew wide.

“Wow! What kind of drink is this? It tastes good but it is certainly different. It certainly will wake you up!”

“Yeah, my mad scientist made it. I think it is a cross between Pepsi and Red Bull but I don’t know. I have a canteen full of good water if you would rather have that,” said Zak.

She offered the canteen to Scott and he too took a big swig.

“Not bad. I think there is some alcohol in there also.”

The old man let a sly smile creep across his face.

“No, I don’t think so but I have some of that too if it will help you ease the pain.”

He took out a pint bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey in an original bottle and took a healthy swig.

“Good lord! Where did you get that? I thought alcohol was outlawed by the government eight or nine years ago!” exclaimed Scott.

“It was but right before the government and the stupid president issued the executive order and when FEMA and Homeland Security was busy rounding up citizens my boys hijacked five semi trailers loaded with booze from a warehouse in south Las Vegas and transported them to my base. That was eight or nine years ago. We still have a lot of booze in those trailers because Ringo built some stills and started making our own booze which is good tasting stuff I might say. I only take this small bottle for special occasions like when I go jogging.”

“Or when you kill a bunch of FEMA personnel?” asked Amanda.

The old man placed the cap on his small pint bottle and placed it back in his vest pocket. Then he glared at the young blonde woman.

“That too! Boy, you seem to be an ungrateful little bitch for all that we have done for you! Nobody has a damn gun to your empty head! If you don’t like what is going on or if you are unhappy there is the trail down the ravine back to the FEMA camp. After all, I am sure those male FEMA guards will take care of you real well when you go back you good looking little bitch! God, people like you who don’t know what freedom is all about drive me crazy!”

Scott squirmed uneasily on the boulder he was sitting on. He had heard during his ten year stay that the male FEMA guards often raped the female prisoners in FEMA camp 37, especially the ones who were placed in disciplinary detention. He had also heard about the young ones that were good looking. Amanda was a good looking young woman and she seemed the type that would be a discipline problem.

It was a tense moment.

The old man stood up, looked around for a moment and finally spoke.

“Okay, let’s get going, that is, if you are going with me Miss Priss. This time we are going to do double time. I would think by the time we get to the next hideaway the level of piss and vinegar running through your athletic body will be reduced to an acceptable level.”

Then he took off in the ravine, which was now uphill, with a very brisk jog. Scott quickly jumped to his feet and followed. Hesitating for a moment Amanda finally rose from her boulder and started to follow. Scott could vaguely hear the young blonde woman mumbling to herself and he made an attempt to ignore her derogatory comments about the old man. Zak could not hear her now that he was twenty yards up the steep incline and moving fast.

Chapter Four

The Stratosphere Falls

After one hour at a frenzied pace Scott thought he was going to die. It was now clear to him that he might indeed, be out of shape. He was sweating profusely and breathing heavily but he had managed to stay twenty yards behind the old man since he had picked up the pace. What bothered him the most was the old man was carrying what looked to be a large heavy back pack during this run along with an AK47 with a full clip in his arms and acted as if the load was nothing. Looking over his shoulder he saw Amanda a good five hundred yards away working her way up the steep mountain ravine. She looked like she was struggling.

Finally the old man stopped to sit on another boulder in the mountain ravine. At this point on the steep incline the path was not deep. Scott arrived at where Zak was sitting and collapsed on the rock hard ground. He could barely speak.

“How…much…ground…do you …think we…have covered?” he gasped.

Zak lifted his canteen off his black leather belt and took a long swig of water. The old man’s black tee shirt was also soaked with sweat just like Scott’s FEMA jumpsuit. He held out his canteen to Scott to take a swig. Scott waved his hand declining his offer. The big man was too out of breath to drink for the moment.

“Oh I reckon around three miles or so. In another five or six hundred yards it is downhill to the second hideaway which is still a pretty good hike. We will be over this small mountain and out of sight of FEMA camp 37 so we will be able to take our time. We might be able to make it before the sun comes up but I seriously doubt it. See all those tracks in the sand? It is pretty clear that Ringo and Georgia Boy have our main group moving like we are. I thought we might catch them if we did double time for the rest of the night but Amanda is slowing our progress.”

“Are you telling me that you can move faster than we just did?”

“Hell yeah! That was an easy jog youngster. Like I told you, you both are seriously out of shape!”

Scott looked down the ravine to see Amanda working her way towards their location in what could only be described as a slow moving jog. In the distance on the valley floor he could see the burning fires of FEMA camp 37. The big man was finally catching his breath and he was starting to feel better.

“I didn’t realize the FEMA camp was that large!” he exclaimed while looking down on the valley from his lofty perch.

“You are kidding aren’t you? FEMA camp 37 is a small government camp. It only contains two hundred thousand people. The camp up by Reno has over a million prisoners, maybe more. Now that is a big damn FEMA camp. According to our computer expert at my base, FEMA camp 43 is the largest inmate camp in the United States! Hell, your camp doesn’t even have any gas ovens!”

“Why would our camp need gas ovens?”

The old man had a look of surprise on his face.

“Boy, you are naïve! I will explain it later once we get to the second hideaway. Do you reckon Miss Priss is gonna’ make it up here before it gets light? The first thing we need to do when we get to my main camp is put you two through some serious conditioning courses!”

Zak and Scott waited another fifteen minutes in the mountain ravine for Amada to arrive. Finally she staggered to their location and collapsed in a heap rolling over on her back. Amanda placed her forearm over her eyes and laid on the desert ground gasping for air. Scott couldn’t tell if Amanda was crying softly or gasping for air. Zak rose from the boulder he was sitting on and walked over to where Amanda was lying on her back. He leaned over so his face was directly three feet over her face.

“Are you ready to get going?” asked the old man with a smile on his face.

He knew his question would piss off the independent young woman.

“Can I just lie here for a few minutes and catch my breath?” she gasped while glaring at the old man after removing her forearm from her face.

The old man stood up and looked around the shallow ravine he was standing in.

“Well, I reckon we can rest here for a few more minutes. This is as good a place as any on the side of this mountain to send a radio transmission I guess. Sure, go ahead and take a rest while I set up my equipment. After I get through we will need to haul ass to get to the second hideaway before it gets light. It is tough going finding your way through this ravine without any light but I think we may have the time. I can’t really remember how far it is because I came through this trail weeks ago and we weren’t pressed for time.  Do you want a swig of Ringo’s energy booster?”

The young blonde sat up slowly with Scott’s help. Her face was as red as could be.

“Yes, I would like that. Do you have another one of those pills? My head is throbbing.”

“You probably have a slight concussion. Sure, here is one of my magic little pills and here is my canteen. Go ahead, take the pill and we will rest for fifteen minutes or so. Relax and watch the show for the next few minutes.”

“What show?” asked Amanda.

:The old man ignored her question.

Zak removed his back pack and set it down on the desert floor. He also removed his canteen as well as his small canister containing the special medication. Within a minute he handed a white pill and the canteen to Amanda.

She took the pill and gulped down a large swig of the energy booster drink. She then took a second large drink.

As she handed the canteen back to the old man she spoke clearly.

“Thanks. I am starting to feel better already.”

Scott helped the young woman to her feet. Her backside was covered with desert sand. Scott began to brush off the clinging dirt. As he started to knock off the dirt on her butt she quickly turned.

“Watch it buddy! I can do that!”

Scott stood up erect with surprise written all over his face.

“What! What the hell do you think I was doing?”

The old man laughed as he was removing a black metal box out of his back pack.

“Amanda is an independent young lady and that is the reason why she probably wound up in a FEMA camp. She thought you were getting a free feel!” laughed the old man.

“I did not!” exclaimed Amanda.

“Yes you did,” answered Zak grinning.

“I did not!”

“I was not attempting to grab your butt!” exclaimed Scott.

The flustered facial expression on the young man’s face reflected that his statement was sincere,

“Lucky you young lady! If it was me dusting off your backside I would have checked to see if that nice butt of yours was as firm as it looks but Scotty boy seems to be a proper young man,” said the old man with a laugh as he set the metal box on a tall boulder.

The old man knew his statement would piss off the young woman.

“You…you… I don’t know what to think about you!” she exclaimed with anger in her voice.

“I know. I used to hear that statement from my first wife all the time. Relax for now and don’t worry about Scott. He is a polite and proper young FEMA inmate. Just worry about me and the next time you get your butt all sandy just ask me to help brush it off. I promise I will do a thorough job and at least you will know the difference between sexual harassment and someone offering to help you.”

The old man then extended some type of metal array approximately six feet in height from the backside of the small metal box he had placed on a granite boulder at eye level. He then removed what looked like a microphone that was attached to one side of the box.

“What is with the box?” asked Scott.

Zak looked at a LED display on the front of the metal box not answering Scott’s question.

“Scott, I am not getting a strong enough signal on top of this boulder. Could you lift the transmitter box for me to a higher location? Let’s place the transmitter up on that flat boulder on the ridge of the ravine.”

“Sure. That is the least I can do.”

Scott, who was big strong young man, placed both hands underneath the small metal box and lifted.

“Good lord! This thing must weigh a hundred pounds!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty heavy.”

“You just carried this thing from the FEMA camp up a steep incline for more than three miles on your back while carrying a heavy assault rifle! This thing weighs as much as Amanda!”

“It sure does but it doesn’t complain like she does and this box is a lot more important at this time than she is. Get your binoculars and keep an eye on FEMA camp 37 and Nellis Air Force Base for the next few minutes. We don’t need any helicopters looking for us up here. There ain’t too many places to hide. Amada, why don’t you get your binoculars and watch the show too? I think you will like it.”

Scott walked over to Amanda’s small backpack and removed her binoculars. The man and woman moved to stand beside the old man next to the wall of the ravine. Standing on the floor of the ravine they could see over the edge of the ravine. From their vantage point they could see the entire Las Vegas valley.

“Oh yeah, the signal is excellent with the transmitter sitting on the top of this wall of the ravine. It is time for me to perform my world famous Elvis impersonation. Even though I can’t really sing all that well, or so I have been told by people who don’t love me, I love to sing for the government when given the opportunity. This is one of those rare opportunities.”

“You are crazy! Just what are you doing?” asked Amanda.

“I’m getting ready to infuse the Las Vegas valley with some good old rock and roll. It’s a shame most of the people in the valley won’t hear me and Elvis perform our duet but the jerks in charge of Homeland Security, the Sheriff’s department and FEMA will certainly get the message. This little unit isn’t powerful enough to intrude on any public wavelengths unfortunately but the stupid dickheads monitoring the government channels will surely get my message. Hell, the government dick suckers may even play my duet for the dickhead president of this country after I am through although I heard he is only into hip hop. He will hear this recording for sure unless he is on vacation, which he probably is. What I am about to do is certainly gonna’ make the evening news I would think, at least on the two remaining channels in the valley. I might even be on MSNBC, CBS, ABC and NBC tonight! You never know!”

“Why is that?” asked Scott.

“Do you remember when I told you earlier that Georgia Boy is one of the best stucco artists I have ever seen in my life and that Ringo is a top notch chemist?”

“I remember you bragging about that,” answered Amanda.

“I knew you of all people would remember that my young, grouchy lady friend who needs to learn to say thank you. Focus your binoculars on that bulwark wall to the west on FEMA camp 37. Can you see all those small and some not so small boulders nestled against the base of the wall?”

The two newly freed inmates lifted their binoculars and viewed the FEMA camp for a long minute.

“Which ones?” asked Scott.

“Yeah, which ones? I see a ton of rocks along that big wall.”

“That is my point exactly. Which ones? There are a lot of big rocks, large and small, along that big ass wall.”

“I don’t understand,” said Scott while looking through his high powered binoculars.

“I told you Georgia Boy is an excellent artist, just like me. He just specializes in landscape architecture. It took my boys two months to sneak up on that western wall in the middle of the night and place pseudo rocks with the existing rocks. Some nights it took all night to place an average size rock. On government holidays we managed to move bigger fake rocks into the mix but we were patient. You can’t tell the real rocks from the fake ones, can you?  There are a lot of fake, um…things in Las Vegas. Oh… I remember when I was a young man cruising the Strip bars late a night in this town! Last week Ringo determined we had enough explosives in place to do some serious damage.”

“I still don’t understand. What are you getting at?” asked Amada.

“You just keep watching through those binoculars for the next minute or so. Once ‘Viva Las Vegas’ quits playing on the Free America air waves you will see what I mean.”

“That big wall is where the FEMA guard’s quarters are located and all of the offices for the support personnel,” exclaimed Amanda.

“No? Are you kidding me? I didn’t know!”

Looking through his binoculars Scott saw many helicopters resting on the ground by the western wall and hundreds of FEMA and Homeland Security vehicles parked nearby in a large paved parking lot. That paved area by the wall was the only area that was flat and cleared of rocks except for the perimeter of the western wall.  Next to the wall were mounds and mounds of desert boulders. The remaining three areas of the perimeter wall of FEMA camp 37 was heavily marred by desert ravines and level desert land with no boulders nearby. The landscape floodlights around FEMA camp 37 seemed to highlight the rocks Zak had pointed out. There were also a large amount of FEMA and Homeland Security personnel milling about because of the earlier attack by Free America.

“You had this planned all along didn’t you?” asked Scott.

“Pretty much young man. We have seen the pigs use this flat area many times in the past two years to launch helicopter attacks on my people. I figured that once a big emergency like we just created yesterday would force them to use the paved area and it looks like I figured correctly. After what happened yesterday it is time to perform some serious payback and I have learned how to do that effectively.”

“If what I think you are about to do there will be a lot more than fifty FEMA personnel killed in the last two weeks,” said Scott softly.

“Where did you get that number?” asked the old man with surprise written all over his face.

“That is the number the government news channel informed everyone on how many FEMA officers have been killed the past two weeks.”

“Really? What a bunch of sacks of lying shit! That proves you can never trust the government when it comes to the numbers they report to the public! We killed more than that one week ago when we blew up one of Homeland Security’s substations in Henderson. The lying pieces of shit!”

“There are over five hundred guards behind that wall at any time plus there are six floors of office staff that operate twenty four hours a day. You know there are civilian women and men on the other side of that wall just doing their job,” said Amanda.

“I know that. All of them are accessories to murder. I am not judging them guilty. All they are in my opinion is a bunch of pieces of shit which have helped in killing a lot of good people. I am going to send them to meet our Maker and He can determine if they are guilty or not.”

The old man pushed a button on the front of his metal box and a recording of Elvis singing ‘Viva Las Vegas’ started to emanate from the front of the machine. The speaker in the machine was of poor quality so the sound was poor but that didn’t seem to faze Zak. The old man picked up the microphone and started to sing along with the Elvis recording.

“Well, at least Zak was telling the truth. He doesn’t sing very well,” said Scott while still looking through his binoculars.

Amanda lowered her binoculars and was staring at the old man with a look of disbelief. She didn’t know what to think about the old man’s bizarre behavior.

When the song concluded there was silence for a brief moment. Then the old man spoke into the microphone. It soon became clear to Amanda and Scott that the old man was enjoying the moment.

“Good day Las Vegas! This is the executioner coming to you from Fremont Street. Long live a free Las Vegas! I want everyone to focus to the north of town and watch my special effects against the night time desert sky! Pay particular attention to the mushroom clouds arising from the former FEMA camp 37 where everyday is a struggle to survive! Enjoy the show and mail your comments to your local FEMA officials in Clark County.”

At that moment the old man pushed a small black button on the front of the small metal transmitter box he had carried since fleeing the cavern hideaway by FEMA camp 37.

The concussion from the explosions could be felt where Amanda and Scott were standing which was easily six miles away. The thunderous sound rolling across the Las Vegas valley boggled the imagination.

Scott watched through his high powered binoculars and a bright orange flash filled his field of vision. For the first few moments he could not see anything. Once the light subsided he could see that there was no discernable wall or for that matter FEMA camp 37 standing on the floor of the desert any more. The west side of the FEMA camp that he could view was a mass of rubble lying beneath a vast cloud of white and black smoke rolling across the desert floor in his direction and rising into the dark sky of Nevada.

“Holy shit!”

Then Amanda spoke with awe in her voice.

“Look to the north! Look at the Stratosphere Tower!”

Scott swung his binoculars to view the tower. In the distance he could see a ton of white and black quickly rising to smother the spotlights around the Stratosphere Tower.  The smoke engulfed the casino sitting on the high pedestal.

“Oh my God! You tried to blow up the Stratosphere Tower too!” exclaimed Scott.

Scott could see the Stratosphere Tower with its navigational lights leaning at a dangerous angle.

“Timber! Don’t you just love those two for one special deals all the casinos offer in Las Vegas?” laughed the old man.

“Thank God it didn’t fall!” exclaimed Amanda.

“Oh trust me Miss Priss, it will fall. I give it twenty three minutes and sixteen seconds.”

The old man pointed to a countdown LED mounted in the framework of the metal box that was now at twenty two minutes and thirty two seconds and counting down.

“What? Is there another bomb on the Stratosphere?” asked Amanda.

“No. Doc said we would only need one special package if we placed it in the right spot and used the right amount of plastic explosive. We wanted to bring it down right across Sahara Boulevard but not immediately. We wanted to give the civilians the opportunity to get out of the casino and we didn’t want the structure to land on any other buildings and kill civilians. There is a big empty field across the street at Sahara and the Strip. Soon a new casino is going to be planted there.  If there was a government building near the Strat or a FEMA building they would be playing slots right now.”

“How in Heaven’s name did you manage to plant the device?” asked Scott.

“It is amazing what you can accomplish with some fake government documents, bogus union cards and the pretense of being a night time maintenance crew. We had the explosives planted in the stairwell at the bottom of the Stratosphere a week ago in a tool locker.”

“It looks like your bomb failed. The Stratosphere is still standing,” said Amanda looking through her binoculars.

“Who is Doc?” asked Scott.

“Doc is an old mathematics professor who used to teach at the University of Nevada in Reno. He is also a medical doctor. He is what most people call a genius. I just call him crazy but I must say he can add two and two damn well. The Stratosphere is leaning a little bit with each passing minute. Once it gets to a certain angle a thing called gravity will bring it down. That is according to Doc. He has been wrong before however.”

“May we stay here and watch until your LED on that machine is down to zero?” asked Amanda.

“Well, we could if you would pick up the pace Miss Priss. Because of your out of shape as…uh, condition we need to go now.”

“Wait! I promise I will pick up my pace.”

“That is easy for you to say. You aren’t carrying a heavy transmitter in your back pack. I am. We need to go now. You will hear about the Stratosphere falling and you already know that FEMA camp 37 has been blown to bits. I say I have had a pretty good night in Las Vegas.”

“Yeah, I wonder how many innocent civilians were killed in that explosion,” said Amanda.

“There were none killed in the explosion at the Strat, unless some janitor was using the stairs. Hopefully over one thousand were killed in the FEMA camp explosion and none of them were innocent. They all are accessories to murder. You are a sheltered little bitch Miss Priss. When we get to my base I will show you some recovered digital my computer geeks have found that will change your mind about how innocent those sorry ass civilians are.”

The old man placed the stout transmitter in his backpack, zipped up the compartment and slipped the heavy bag on his back.

The Stratosphere moved a noticeable amount.

“The tower moved!” yelled Scott.

“Zak is moving! See you two later…maybe,” said the old man as he started to head up the mountain ravine trail.

“Wait! Would you stay until the LED clock on the unit counts down to zero? I want to see what happens! I will carry your backpack and Amanda promises she will pick up her pace, right Amanda?” pleaded Scott.

Amanda lowered her binoculars glaring at Scott. She then turned to view the leaning Stratosphere in the distance. Smoke was rolling up into the air at the FEMA camp but now there was no visual smoke around the newly created leaning tower of Las Vegas because of the stiff desert wind. It was a scary yet captivating sight.

The old man hesitated mulling over Scott and Amanda’s proposal. Inside his mind, he wanted to see the tower topple too.

“Okay, you have a deal.”

The old man grinned and took off his backpack immediately lowering it to the desert ground.

“You two kids definitely have a deal! There is your backpack Scott and make sure your boot laces are tied Amanda. As soon as that tower falls we need to get moving!”

Scott lifted the heavy backpack and placed it on the edge of the mountain ravine. He unfastened the flap to where he and Amanda could see the red LED clock. It now read nine minutes and fifty three seconds and still counting down.

The two newly freed FEMA inmates continued to watch through their binoculars and sporadically looked at the countdown clock. Once the LED displayed ten seconds left they focused their binoculars on the Stratosphere.

Scott counted down to zero.

When the LED readout displayed zero the two newly freed inmates watched. Nothing happened. The Stratosphere was still standing leaning at an odd angle.

“It looks like your math genius figured wrong!” exclaimed Amanda lowering her binoculars and turning to the old man.

“There it goes!” exclaimed Scott.

By the time Amanda raised the binoculars to her face the Stratosphere could no longer be seen. All Amanda saw was a large rising cloud of desert dust illuminated by the casino lights on the Strip.

“I missed it!” exclaimed Amanda.

“You seem to miss a lot of things Miss Priss because of your mouth,”

“That’s not fair! Your math genius was wrong!”

“Yeah, he has been wrong before but he was right about placing the explosives as to where there would be enough time for civilians to get the hell out. He just erred in favor of giving them a few more precious seconds I reckon. Now let’s get a move on. We have a ways to go and it will be getting light soon. At least for you Scott, we will be over the crest of this ravine in another five hundred yards and then it’s pretty much downhill from there. You should be able to keep up Amanda. The grueling part of the hike is over.”

Scott fastened the flap on the old man’s back pack and slipped his muscular arms through the shoulder straps. He was surprised to find he needed no adjustment. He eyed the old man intently. Zak wasn’t nearly as tall as he was but he had a broad set of shoulders and the arms to go with them. Scott figured the old man could be a difficult character to deal with in a confrontation.

Amanda slipped on her backpack and stood waiting.

“I will give you a break Miss Priss. We will walk to the crest of the mountain ravine and then we will pick up the pace.”

“I would have thought we would have caught up with our group,” said Scott.

“I was just thinking that too youngster but I imagine Ringo and Georgia Boy had the group moving at a brisk pace. I am sure there will be some sore bodies tomorrow morning. We were hampered by Amanda’s injury and they know that. We will probably run across a couple of my boys in another mile or two who have stopped to make sure we are okay.”

The old man turned and headed up the rock strewn ravine to the west. Scott fell in behind him and Amanda, once again, brought up the rear.

After thirty minutes of rough going the three hikers were standing on the top of a good sized mountain. The old man turned and looked down at the Las Vegas valley.

“Take a look at your former home boys and girls. I used to love Las Vegas in my younger and middle aged years when I lived there before the dictator took over. Las Vegas is now just a shell of the once great city it was. We may be back to visit one of these days. This has been a fun experience and we have accomplished some goals the past few weeks I must say. I am sure we got the dictator’s attention.”

Scott and Amanda turned to look down on the wide valley surrounded by high barren mountains. Now there was a massive, towering cloud of black and white smoke drifting slowly with the wind while laying low on the desert’s surface moving towards the city from the northeast. The dense smoke was the result of the destruction of FEMA camp 37 which Scott and Amanda had known as home for a long time. From their vantage point the two ex-inmates could see the fires still raging from within the remaining perimeter walls of the prison creating a large amount of smoke. There were numerous FEMA fire trucks and water pumping tankers sitting in the paved parking lot desperately attempting to snuff out the out of control fire but the FEMA fire department was discovering that in this part of the desert water was an extremely scarce resource and the water pressure poor. To Zak it looked like a losing battle.

Scott picked up the binoculars slung across his neck and used them.

“I see thousands of FEMA inmates running in the desert! Some of them are headed in our direction!”

“I imagine so. Do you see any helicopters or FEMA all terrain vehicles chasing them?”

“No. I think FEMA has their hands full right now, I don’t see anyone in pursuit,” said Scott.

“I didn’t think so. Plus FEMA is always extremely slow to respond to anything. I am sure there are a lot of prisoners running towards the city under that blanket of smoke. Some of them might gain their freedom but I imagine most of them will be caught eventually and sent to another camp until camp 37 is repaired and operational again. I am not interested in those inmates. They lacked the courage to get away during the attack on FEMA camp 37 yesterday morning. Now they are running to get away from the destruction not knowing what to do next. They didn’t muster the courage to make it out of the death camp like you two did yesterday.”

“How many people do think got killed?” asked Amanda.

“If you talking about civilians I would imagine there were a few. Doc figured out the amount of explosives for the destruction of the FEMA wall that would do the most damage and keep the casualties to a minimum. I think we just killed more than a thousand FEMA personnel if the plans we got off the Internet are correct. It’s a pretty good day’s work considering it took us three or four weeks to kill a hundred before yesterday. The assassinations and car bombs were only diversionary acts so the government would concentrate their resources on the city of Las Vegas. That is a good sized city to cover. We certainly have the government’s attention and they are very busy now. This attack happened at many FEMA camps around the United States today.”

“This was part of a coordinated attack?” asked Scott.

“Yes it was. We have a covert national network of resistance partners. The second Civil War in America just started today. When we get to my base we will find out more. We go overseas to get our information, mostly from the networks in Russia, China and some parts of Europe. You won’t hear a word about what happened today on the United States networks. The government will suppress the reporting on what happened unless they can put a positive spin on the event. That’s gonna’ be hard to do after what happened yesterday and today.”

Scott and Amanda turned to look at the Las Vegas valley one more time.

Chapter Five

Nevada Campout

“Zak! Zak! We have been waiting for you!” sounded a voice from some boulders in the ravine up the trail coming out of the dark.

Stepping into the path on the bottom of the ravine was Big Jimbo and Little Jimbo.

“Oh yeah! Those are two of my best scouts! I figured Ringo or Georgia Boy would have somebody stay behind to meet us! I am sure glad to see you fellows! We can use some help. We have a lady who has suffered an injury.”

Scott watched as the two men walked towards them on the path. Big Jimbo was aptly named. He was a tall muscular black man who appeared to be in his mid twenties and looked like he could more than take care of himself. Big Jimbo was taller than Scott and Scott stood six and half feet in his bare feet. Little Jimbo was a white man also in his mid twenties standing six feet in height and he too appeared to have not one ounce of body fat on his frame.  Both of the Jimbos had the chiseled features of any male model on the cover of a glamour magazine. They both had brilliant white smiles.

When the two men arrived at Zak’s location both of them embraced the older man.

“We were worried about you old friend. We were beginning to fear you had bought the farm,” said Big Jimbo.

“No, it was an uneventful hike, the kind I like. Did you guys see the fireworks show? Did you hear me serenade Las Vegas?”

“We sure did! We climbed up on top of the mountain and watched. Big Jimbo had his radio on.  Doc figured it out pretty good don’t you think?” said Little Jimbo.

“The old man did real well. He was only off in his estimate by fifteen seconds or so which is amazing to me,” answered Zak.

“Did you two watch the Stratosphere topple?” asked Little Jimbo turning to face Scott and Amada.

“I did. When the tower initially leaned and then moved a little more ten minutes later my heart was racing. The sight of that tower falling to the earth took my breath away,” said Scott as he shook both Little Jimbo and Big Jimbo’s hands.

“What about you ma’am?” asked Little Jimbo.

“I got distracted and missed the actual falling of the tower. Hi, my name is Amanda,” she said while shaking both Jimbo’s hands.

“That’s too bad. You missed something that will be talked about for years to come,” answered Big Jimbo.

Zak said nothing. He was more interested in how Scott and Amanda interacted with his two freedom fighters. The two newly freed inmates seemed to be comfortable with the two deadly men. The Jimbos seemed to be comfortable with them.

“So are we ready to go?” asked Big Jimbo.

“Did Ringo and some of his men spread the special poison like I instructed?” asked Zak.

“He griped about it but he did what you ordered. You know Ringo. He doesn’t like killing any animals, especially dogs. We were watching as six dogs keeled over in the desert after you and your friend’s morning escape. At one time the search parties were less than a mile behind you and your guests moving in the ravine. We thought you were going to get caught for an hour or so. You three were too far away for our sniper rifles to be effective and kill the searchers. Once the search parties reached the poison perimeter the search stopped,” said Little Jimbo.

“Good. We don’t want any damn dog identifying this ravine trail. We need to hoof it if we are going to make it by nightfall today to our next destination.”

“We got that covered. Three miles down the trail Doc sent the Swamp Fox out with four horses once he heard the explosion at the FEMA camp. He also loaded the horses with supplies. I don’t think we can make our base by the time it turns light today. He sent ten additional horses with supplies for Georgia Boy and Ringo’s men including our guests to bed down for the rest of the night. I reckon they are about ten to twelve miles ahead of us. The FEMA inmates were in a state of exhaustion because they were out of shape. It is a good thing Doc figured it out or tonight would have been a rough night for our new found friends. He had to put a few of them on drip bottles for dehydration for the night,” said Big Jimbo.

Zak grinned.

“Even though he is crazy I love that old man. Let’s get moving to find the Swamp Fox and his horses. We can cover some ground with those animals before light comes.”

The four men and woman headed down the trail. This section of the ravine was a lot easier to travel because there were not as many rocks strewn across the bottom of the mountain ravine reducing the threat of twisting an ankle and coming up lame. That was like a death sentence in the desert.

After hiking for two hours and rounding a sharp bend in the trail the group found the Swamp Fox sitting on his horse patiently waiting with four additional horses tethered to his saddle horn. The man called Swamp Fox was a darkly tanned young man with jet black hair and blessed with a great smile. He had a lean muscular build that was complimented with a handsome face.

While walking toward the man with the horses the old man spoke.

“Swamp Fox escaped from a FEMA camp in Louisiana nine years ago when he was seventeen. It took him a year to work his way across the States to Nevada. He is also one of my good scouts and he is especially proficient with a knife when it comes to throwing one. He is a good Cajun kid,” said the old man as he waved to the young man.

The group made their way down the shallow mountain ravine to the man with the horses.

“How’s it going Eric?”

“It was a piece of cake. It was just a nice easy horse ride in the mountains which is a pleasure in life. I see we have some guests,” replied the Swamp Fox.

“Yes we do. This big fellow is Scott and the lady’s name is Amanda. I sure am glad to see you and those animals. I think we can make up some time with the horses youngster.”

“The trail is still fairly clear. There have been no big landslides since you traveled it a few weeks ago. We can cover some ground before its get light but we won’t be catching up with Georgia Boy or Ringo. They are ten miles ahead and that is some rough terrain to cover. We will be able to easily make the secondary camp tomorrow by noon if we use the Nightmare Trail. It’s nice to meet you Amanda,” replied the Cajun flashing his white teeth for the young woman.

Swamp Fox was known to be a lady’s man and he was eyeing Amanda intently. The young man said nothing to Scott.

Amanda was eyeing Eric also. Zak noticed that at least she wasn’t glaring at the handsome young man.

Zak just grinned and said nothing. He mounted the nearest horse waiting beside him. Scott climbed on a horse as did both of the Jimbos. This left Amanda standing alone on the ground.

“And what am I to do? There is no horse for me! Am I supposed to jog along behind every one of you supposed gentlemen?” she asked with a touch of anger in her voice.

“You are certainly welcome to double up with me ma’am,” volunteered the young Cajun with a big grin on his face while extending his hand.

Amanda placed her hands on her hips and glared once again at the old man.

“Don’t look at me Miss Priss. You can either jog or ride with one of us. I damn sure ain’t walking when I have a horse.  These horses won’t be running on this terrain so the choice is yours. Pick your poison,” replied the old man sitting comfortably on his saddle while looking down the trail, making it a point to not focus on Amanda.

Amanda stood for a long minute looking at the men sitting in their saddles.

Then the old man turned his horse and started to head down the trail slowly not waiting for an answer. The Jimbos followed the old man leaving Eric waiting on his horse with his hand extended offering help to mount the horse and Amanda standing with her hands still on her hips.

“Well?” asked the Cajun continuing to hold out his hand.

“Thank you but I will walk,”

“If that is what you want. Watch out for the loose rocks and the rattlesnakes. You have to be alert for rattlesnakes in this part of Nevada because they don’t always rattle.”

The Swamp Fox turned his horse slowly and followed the trail behind the Jimbo’s and the old man.

Amanda started to walk and at this pace she was comfortable. After ten minutes the old man, who was in the lead, came across a stretch of trail where there were no rocks on the trail and the terrain was relatively flat for a good mile or more. There was no defined ravine on this part of the journey. He turned to look over his shoulder at the young woman walking and grinned. Then the old man spurred his horse gently and picked up the pace to a trot. While doing so he laughed just loud enough for Amanda to hear him.

When the horses picked up the pace Amanda found that now she had to jog, briskly, to stay with the pack. At least she found that she did not have to worry about spraining her ankle on any loose rocks. At this pace she just had to be on the lookout for rattlesnakes. Even though she was at a higher elevation she soon found her body soaked with sweat and she was starting to breath heavily.

She managed to keep pace with the horses for thirty minutes when she finally yelled.

“Wait!” she gasped, bending over placing her hands on her knees gasping to catch her breath.

“Please wait,” she gasped again even louder.

Eric slowly turned his horse around on the trail and rode the animal to where she was now sitting on a boulder. Meanwhile, the old man and the two Jimbos kept their horses trotting down the trail not bothering to look back or stop. Amanda watched the three men move away from where she was standing.

“Zak doesn’t care about me!” she gasped.

The Cajun looked over his shoulder and grinned as the old man and his two companions picked up their speed.

“Oh yes he does. He knows I am here to take care of you. This is the only flat area on the trail where you can make up some time before it gets light. There is a small box canyon with steep sides up ahead another mile or two so I imagine he wants to get there today because of the predators in this area. If you still prefer to walk I will stay with you to make sure you don’t become dinner for some big cat until we reach the box canyon. If you prefer to walk we will getting there after the sun comes up but I have a flashlight that will be of some help for now plus my horse will let me know if we are being stalked by any predator.”

“Predators? What are you speaking of, FEMA patrols?”

“No ma’am, I am talking about mostly mountain lions and rattlesnakes. Those critters like to hunt at night in this part of Nevada. This stretch of the high desert is crawling with them,” he answered with a smile.

He turned his horse to head up the trail.

“Just follow this trail. You will find us eventually if you keep looking to your right for the narrow box canyon because we will have a campfire. Once I get on that ridge a half a mile ahead I will stop and wait for you. From there you can follow me behind my horse. I don’t like being out in the open like this.”

As he spurred his horse the young woman yelled once again.

“Wait! Would you give me a lift?” she asked with fear in her face this time.

The young Cajun turned his head with a smile on his face while settling his horse down to stand.

“Why yes ma’am! Would you like to ride in the front or the rear of my horse?”

He extended his hand and Amanda walked up to grab it.

“I will ride on the back thank you.”

She placed her foot in the stirrup and with Eric’s assistance smoothly mounted the rear of the horse.

“Why ma’am, I think you have ridden a horse before!”

“I have ridden a lot of horses in my life. I was raised on a farm before I was thrown in the FEMA camp.”

“Ugh, you are all sweaty! Maybe when we get to the box canyon you would like to freshen up. There is a nice oasis in that canyon with a nice little waterfall.”

“There is a lake in the middle of this desert wasteland? That is hard to believe! Is there good water?”

“Why sure! It is the best water in the world made by Mother Nature. There are quite a few water holes hidden in the desert, you just have to know where to look to find them. I bet only a hundred white people have ever been to this place in the last three hundred years.  The Indian civilizations in the desert in the old west certainly knew about it because you can find some old arrowheads near the lake if you dig for them. The wildlife in this area certainly knows about it, like the mountain lions but once they see the campfire tonight they won’t bother us.”

“Why not?”

“Because the critters know we won’t be staying long. They will come to drink after we leave or go to another. There is a mountain stream just over the next ridge running in a wet ravine. Hold on tight ma’am. We have to do some serious horse riding to catch up.”

Eric spurred his horse and the animal took off at a gallop. Amanda quickly wrapped her arms around his muscular chest and held on tightly pressing her upper body against the young Cajun’s back. To not hang on would result in her falling off the animal hitting the hard desert ground and possibly getting hurt. Amanda had ridden double before. After fifteen minutes of maintaining a brisk pace Eric and Amanda caught up with the old man and the Jimbos who were standing under a desert scrub tree resting their horses and patiently waiting.

“We were wondering if you two got lost. I am happy to see you came to your senses Miss Priss. Big Jimbo, cut some to those desert branches off that scrub brush and cover our tracks back to the hard pan where the flat area exists. We will wait for now. You need to rest your horse Cajun. He is sweating quite a bit and we don’t want to lose him out in the middle of nowhere.”

Amanda and Eric dismounted their ride. The old man held a bucket in his hand and poured some water out of a plastic bottle into its interior. The horse knew what to do. He drank from the bucket loudly.

“We take care of our animals and they in turn take care of us. My boys love their horses,” said the old man.

Amanda nodded her head approving, not saying a word.

“I will go ahead and find us a campsite. You do remember the entrance to the box canyon don’t you?” asked Little Jimbo.

“I think so but place a three rock array in the middle of the trail so I will know just in case you ain’t there when I arrive. I’m not as young as I used to be so sometimes the memory fails me. Thanks, Little Jimbo.”

Then Zak sat down on a loose boulder and stretched his legs.

“You would have left me wouldn’t you?” asked Amanda.

“No. Even if you didn’t take up Eric’s offer I knew you would be hard headed and continue along the trail even at night. Even though you didn’t realize it at the time because of your irrational and emotional reasoning I knew that you didn’t have much of a choice. I would have had to wait for you at the entrance to the box canyon for an hour or two. If you ran across trouble you would have been yelling for help wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe and maybe not!”

The old man laughed.

“Okay. That doesn’t matter that much. Eric would have been shadowing you nearby in case you ran across a big cat. You are one hard headed woman.”

Big Jimbo soon returned and threw the branches he had used behind a bank of boulders.

“Okay Zak. As long as we ride slowly we shouldn’t leave any tracks on this hard path.”

“Eric, you and Amanda walk your mount for the next fifteen minutes or so. He still needs the rest and we ain’t in any hurry. The entrance to the box canyon is ahead two hundred yards.”

“I thought you told Little Jimbo you didn’t remember!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I did? I don’t remember telling him that,” said the old man as he mounted his horse with a grin.

He then turned his horse and headed down the trail.

“Ohh! That old man is driving me crazy!”

Eric and Big Jimbo laughed.

“He loves doing shit like that! That man’s mind is as sharp as a tack especially when it comes to details like covering your tracks. You will learn once you get to know him well if you live that long. Actually he is nothing but a big pussycat once you become his friend. Speaking for myself I consider him to be my father,” said Eric.

Both of the Jimbos nodded their heads in agreement.

* * * * *

It was still six hours until sunrise and the traveling horseback riders had a steady campfire burning. It was dark when the group entered the box canyon but by using flashlights and the light of the campfire there was enough illumination for Amanda to see the features of the surrounding terrain. The canyon wasn’t large but it was deep.  The sides of the granite walls were high and smooth displaying a vast array of colors that had been slowly developed for millions of years due to time and gravity along with the shifting of tectonic plates. It was as if God had molded the canyon walls with a special knife. There was not a ledge to be seen and the walls displayed almost every color of the rainbow at various elevations.

Tumbling out of a ten foot horizontal crack one hundred feet from the surface of the canyon floor was a stout flowing stream of water falling into a lake that was surprisingly large for being out in the desert in the middle of nowhere. The lake took up half of the available canyon floor space. A small stream flowed away from the lake opposite the entrance into the canyon and disappeared under a tall canyon wall. The lake was easily five acres in size and had much green foliage growing on its shores. It was an extremely relaxing place to be. If she had food and adequate shelter Amanda felt like she could live here for the rest of life.

The woman and her five male comrades were sitting on the ground around the campfire watching the small flames shooting into the air and passing around one of the special energy drink canteens the old man had provided. They had built the campfire near the shore of the lake a hundred feet away from the waterfall. The sound of the water falling to the surface of the lake was not so loud as to be disturbing. It was a very soothing sound, the type of sound that would lull a person to sleep.

The horses were tied up near the mouth of the narrow entrance into the box canyon. The entrance to the box canyon was less than twenty feet in width which provided a sense of security. If a big cat was to attempt to gain entry tonight the horses would let their protectors know that something was wrong.

Amanda looked to the sky and for the first time in a long time she could see stars that were brightly visible. When she lived in FEMA camp 37 she worked under a roof all day. One hour a day, usually at noon, she was allowed to walk and mingle with other inmates in the exercise yard. To see stars once again in her life made her realize that she had missed a lot in the last nine years.

The Cajun man named Eric had placed a metal container with a lid over the campfire by building a cradle out of green wood cut from brush growing by the lake to permit the canister to straddle the flames. He had brought with  him popcorn and the resourceful half breed was playing a harmonica while waiting for the popcorn to pop.  The Jimbos had brought the salt and the old man had brought a larger bottle of Jack Daniels which was passed around amongst the group. It was the best the group could do for the night but considering they were miles from civilization things was pretty good as far as Amanda was concerned. For the first time in a long time she felt what freedom was truly like and for the moment the feeling confused her. She felt good but she also felt scared. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way but she knew one thing. She felt good that the young good looking man named Eric was sitting nearby. She also felt comfortable with the old man and the two Jimbos but not as much as she did with the man known as the Swamp Fox. The big man Scott also caused her to feel safe for the night. It was the first time she had felt this way in a long time.

It was a cool night but not cold and the campfire felt good to everyone. Big Jimbo had gathered plenty of brush and deadwood from around the lake to keep the fire going through out the night. As the popcorn started to pop a coyote could be howling in the distance. Soon another coyote answered.

“Life is so strange. It is amazing how your life can change so quickly,” said Amanda while sitting on the desert ground with her arms wrapped around her knees.

Eric stopped playing his harmonica. The old man lowered the Jack Daniels bottle he had in his right hand and eyed the young woman.

These were the first words the young woman had said all night.

“It sure can. Why do you say that?” asked Eric.

At first she said nothing while staring at the campfire. The popcorn ceased popping and Eric moved to remove the canister from his field cradle. He picked up some large Styrofoam cups he had packed in his saddle bags when he left the Secondary Base and filled them with the newly popped popcorn. He handed a cup of popcorn to each person sitting around the campfire while Big Jimbo passed around a salt shaker he had brought with him.

“You didn’t answer Eric’s question. Why did you say that?” asked Little Jimbo.

At first the young woman hesitated to answer.

“I don’t want to tell any negative tales in such a beautiful and tranquil setting. This is a wonderful place,” she answered resting her head on her right arm which was still wrapped around her knees.

No one said a thing. Finally she continued to speak.

“I remember when I was fourteen. This was six months after martial law was declared for the United States. I was a cheerleader for my junior high school in Kansas City and had stayed after school because of a basketball game. After the game a close friend of mine dropped me off in front of my house and there were a lot of FEMA and Homeland Security cars in the driveway and parked out on the street with their roof lights flashing. When I walked up to the front porch two men grabbed me and threw me to the ground placing handcuffs on my wrists. They took me into the living room where my father and mother along with my younger brother were lying on the floor. The Homeland Security goons had beat up my father pretty bad. He had blood running down his face.  The security personnel weren’t concerned about us because we were in handcuffs so I managed to slip my arms under my legs to where my hands were in front of me. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife before the jerks knocked me out.”

“The Homeland Security people knocked you out? That seems pretty harsh just for slipping your bonds,” said Eric.

“That was after I stabbed two of them with a large kitchen knife.”

“Holy shit! It’s a wonder you weren’t sentenced to death!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

All of the men had surprised looks on their faces. Amanda didn’t seem the type of woman to react so violently to anything.

“I was sentenced to life in a FEMA camp doing hard labor. I have not heard a thing about what happened to my family.”

“Why were the cops at your place in the first place?” asked Eric.

“My father was the mayor of our small town south of Kansas City. It was a suburb. He refused to order the curfew the president imposed on all Americans. He felt we didn’t need a curfew in our community. He didn’t agree with everyone being in their homes when it got dark. I think that is the reason the Homeland Security shit heads showed up but I still don’t know. The Homeland Security agents beat my father and my brother real bad while I was handcuffed. They kicked both of them many times while they were lying on the floor handcuffed for no reason at all. I lost my temper.”

There was silence around the campfire for a long minute. No one was bothering to eat their popcorn.

“Those Homeland Security dudes are real tough with peaceful citizens. Damn girl! I am proud of you! You sure don’t look the type!” exclaimed Eric.

Little Jimbo and Big Jimbo nodded their heads in agreement. Scott had a stunned look on his face. Amanda didn’t look the type.

Amanda turned to look at the old man who was also eyeing her intently.

“You have no comment? I find that hard to believe.”

“What you just said doesn’t make sense to me. Ever since I freed you all you have been doing is give me grief over killing the same people who probably killed your family and put you in prison doing hard labor for the rest of your life. I am trying to figure you out Miss Priss.”

“It is not hard to understand. While in FEMA camp 37 I have discovered the teachings of Jesus Christ.”

The old man was now looking at Amanda with a frown on his weathered face. He said nothing at first.

“If everyone followed the teachings of Jesus there would be no killing,” she said.

The old man could contain himself no longer.

“Not everyone follows those beliefs woman. Living by those beliefs got the teacher killed if I remember correctly.”

“No it didn’t. He attained eternal life.”

“If you believed that then why did you run from the exercise yard yesterday morning? Eternal life was in your grasp.”

“I was scared!”

“Makes you wonder if Jesus was scared when they were hammering those big nails in his hands doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think he was scared!”

“It at least makes you wonder doesn’t it? I would have been shitting in my pants.”

“So you aren’t a Christian are you?”

“Why do you ask that?

“Because a true Christian would not say what you just said.”

“Say what? I would not be a Christian because I said I would be shitting in my pants if someone was driving nails through the palms of my hands against some wood? I would probably be pissing in my pants too!” exclaimed the old man.

“Jesus wasn’t scared when he was crucified!”

“So you were there?”

“That is what is written!”

“If you say so Miss Priss. I have never read anything about fear or lack of fear from Jesus. What you have read was written by men or so it is written,” said Zak raising his Jack Daniels bottle to take a swig.

The he passed the bottle to Big Jimbo.

“Ohhh…you are impossible!” hissed the young woman clenching her fists.

“My first wife used to say that to me everyday after the ring was on her finger. It’s getting late. That pup tent by the lake is yours for tonight. The other tent is for us.”

“I don’t need any tent. I will sleep here by the fire tonight!”

“I would suggest you sleep in the tent for the night. You can seal that tent while you sleep,” said Big Jimbo.

“So?” she said.

The men looked at each other with puzzled looks on their faces.

“Miss Amanda, the high desert is crawling with both black and white scorpions. To get stung by either of those species is not good. You have lived in a secure environment for the last few years where you didn’t have to worry about scorpions or rattlesnakes. You should sleep in the tent tonight. Some of these desert scorpions are big enough to kill you with a single sting,” said Eric.

“Is this for real?” she asked to no one in particular.

At that moment Eric overturned a nearby rock and a large white scorpion scurried away. Eric quickly threw a knife pinning the squirming scorpion to the desert ground.

“The critters are everywhere. The only reason this one stayed under that rock was because of the campfire, When it’s dark he would have come out from under that rock and went on the prowl. If he crawled on you by the campfire he would have stung you thinking that he found something to eat. The critters have no concept of size,” he said casually retrieving his knife with the squirming scorpion still attached.

Eric flicked the insect into the center of campfire.

Amanda’s eyes were wide with fear and she was shivering while sitting by the campfire. She wasn’t sure if it was from fear from what she had just witnessed or the chill from the night air.

“Okay. I will take you up on your offer of the use of the tent for tonight. After all, you are the only gentleman I have met since leaving the FEMA camp.”

Amanda arose carrying her cup of popcorn and a water canteen and retired to the pup tent by the lake. She zipped up the tent flaps sealing up her place for the night from unwanted critters.

Big and Little Jimbo were laughing quietly.

“So Eric, when did you place the scorpion under the rock?” asked Big Jimbo.

Eric laughed.

“I put him there while she was washing up down at the lake. I caught him earlier in the day thinking it was gonna’ come in handy to make any FEMA inmates get in the tents for the night. I figured it would be one or two less people sitting around the campfire taking a swig out of the Jack Daniels bottle. You don’t get a chance to take a sip of good whiskey now days. You are gonna’ have your hands full with her Zak. We don’t need anyone who isn’t willing to kill.”

“She will come around youngster. Hell, she stabbed two Homeland Security cops. I think she has the temper. We just have to teach her how to channel it in the right way.”

“I dunno’ Zak. She seems to be a hard headed woman,” said Little Jimbo.

“Yeah, I know. All women are born that way. It takes a man to make them see the light Little Jimbo. I will take the first shift tonight standing guard. Who wants to go second?”

Scott was sitting on his boulder with a smile on his face. He was feeling for the first time in a long time that maybe he had finally found a place to be in his life.

* * * * *

Chapter Six

Doc

The air was chilly when Amanda awoke in her pup tent. She had slept well considering her circumstances. Her body was sore from yesterday’s activities especially her legs. As she sat up and shivered she smelled something that made her stomach growl because she was truly hungry. She was smelling coffee in the air and what she thought was the unmistakable smell of bacon cooking. She opened the zipper flaps on her pup tent and crawled out on her hands and knees. Standing up she saw her new friends sitting around a healthy campfire in the darkness of the box canyon. Although there was daylight in the sky the box canyon was still in dark shadows. It would be twelve noon until any sunshine reached the floor of this canyon.

She walked up to her new friends and squatted beside the warm fire holding her hands out in front of her body to get them warm.  Eric was on his knees tending a large pan sitting on a metal grill that was resting on some rocks beside the fire.

What she had smelled was true. Eric was cooking many strips of bacon and the smell filling the area made her stomach growl.  The young Cajun also had a container of milky white substance sitting on a rock beside him.

“I thought I smelled bacon but I thought I was dreaming. Bacon was a rarity in the FEMA camp. What is that in the canister?”

“That is pancake mix Miss Amanda. While the bacon cools I am going to make some pancakes for everyone. Would you like a stack?” asked Eric.

“If I had some syrup I would but I will certainly have some bacon if you don’t mind.”

Eric grinned and pulled a sixteen ounce bottle out of his jacket pocket.

“We have syrup. You gotta’ have syrup. We also have a tub of butter too. Doc thought of everything when he packed the supply bags. He even packed some sporks and metal pans to eat with. How many pancakes would you like this morning Miss Amanda?”

Amanda laughed.

“Two would be great! This is wonderful!”

The old man and the Jimbos were watching the young woman not saying a word but they were smiling. The men knew that this morning in the box canyon was one of those special times in your life. They knew it was a special time for the young woman too.

For the next half hour the woman and men enjoyed a breakfast in the field of freshly cooked bacon, pancakes covered with butter and syrup along with freshly made coffee which was surprisingly good. There was much laughter and fun small talk as the sunlight increased in the box canyon. For a brief moment they had managed to escape the stark realities in the real world.

Once breakfast was over Eric piled the metal pans in his cooking pan along with the sporks.

“Give me a few minutes to wash up and I will return to help you guys break down the camp fellows.”

As the Cajun headed down to the lake he heard a voice.

“I would like to help you,” said Amanda.

The young Cajun displayed his white teeth with a wide smile.

“Why sure! Help is always welcomed!”

The young man and woman made their way down to the lake.

The men around the campfire watched the woman and Cajun walk to the small lake.

“That Cajun is girl crazy,” said Big Jimbo.

“I don’t blame him. She’s a good looking young woman. If I was that age again I would have attempted to share that pup tent with her last night to keep her warm and to give her a sense of security. Is Doc on his way?”  Zak asked while laughing because of his statement.

“I saw Doc and the men waiting for us down the trail one hour ago before we had breakfast while I was pulling guard duty. They are down the trail a mile away,” answered Little Jimbo.

“Do we have any trailers?” asked the old man.

“We sure do. They are approximately six to seven miles behind us which is kind of close. Too close actually. I went down to the hard pan where we covered our trail and climbed up the small mountain to take a look with my binoculars early this morning. I could see the Homeland Security boy’s campfire. It looked to me there were around twenty men on horses and I could see two dirt bikes. If we don’t set an ambush today they will be upon us by nightfall unless we pick up our pace.”

“Yeah, I expected that after such a devastating attack on FEMA camp 37. That means we have bugs.”

“It sure does,” nodded Little Jimbo.

“Bugs? What do you mean by that?” asked Scott.

The old man arose from the boulder he was sitting on and walked to the young man.

“Give me your left arm.”

Scott raised his left arm. The old man grabbed his left wrist and rolled it slightly. On the side of Scott’s forearm was the customary FEMA tattoo that every inmate was forced to have prominently displayed by the government.

“Underneath that tattoo is an electronic identity chip. The feds are using technology to track your every move. They have been doing that ever since you arrived at FEMA camp 37.”

“What? I never got the identity chip. That was one of the reasons I was thrown in the FEMA camp to start with! I have never had any surgery in my life!”

“You knucklehead! They don’t cut you open to implant the chip! They use an air injector to place the identity device. The government told people at first they had to get an inoculation against a disease or the flu to plant the chip. After martial law was declared every American was required to get the chip. At sometime during your stay at the FEMA camp you got a shot somewhere in your body. Usually they planted the identity chip right under your FEMA tattoo. That’s why Doc has brought some men and is waiting for us this morning.”

“We need to do something about that! That means I can’t go anywhere without the government knowing where I’m at!”

“That is true but we will fix you up right after we break camp. Little Jimbo, why don’t you and Big Jimbo go get ten of Doc’s men and set up the ambush? Those government boys will be breaking camp in an hour or two unless they have a hard core pusher running their operation so then they will be leaving when it gets light. Set up the ambush on the hard pan area where we started to cover our tracks. Try not to kill their horses. We can use those animals and the equipment. Get their supplies and I wouldn’t mind getting two more dirt bikes. Leave their bodies for the critters to feed on. Me and the Cajun along with our two new guests will break down the camp.”

Big Jimbo and Little Jimbo promptly mounted their horses and left the box canyon spurring their horses to trot.

“You don’t seem to be worried about ten to twenty men with guns coming after you to kill you,” said Scott.

“I am damn worried big man. The federal government has those damn drones flying overhead sometimes but they can’t find us in this canyon and we have something for them if we run across one. The men on horses I am not worried about. My boys can take care of them. Let’s roll up camp and get ready to get out of here.”

Scott and the old man started to pack up the horses as Amanda and Eric returned from the lake. They both were talking and generally having a good time. Eric looked at the old man and could tell that something was bothering him. He knew the old man’s behavior well.

“Is something up?”

“We have trailers and I fear they are too close. We need to get on down the trail now while the Jimbos buy us some time.”

Eric instantly started to hustle starting first with Amanda’s tent.

“What does that mean?” asked the young woman.

She could tell that the handsome Cajun man was alarmed about something. He was moving quickly.

“It means we will see or hear some action this morning. We have some of your old captors too close for comfort so we need to take care of it this morning. It is just a part of taking care of business. They are after their property which is you and Scott as well as the other FEMA prisoners moving with Georgia Boy and Ringo. I reckon they want you back.”

“Oh my God! There are only four of us who have guns! What are we going to do?”

“We are going to ride up the trail like always lady,” answered Zak.

Eric returned with the pup tent neatly folded and fastened it to the rear of his horse while the old man extinguished the camp fire. Scott and the old man mounted their horses while Eric and Amanda mounted their steed. The group slowly headed out of the box canyon. Amanda thought they would leave in a gallop but the old man seemed to be in no particular hurry.

“I love this place. Maybe I can come back and stay for a couple of days in the future. It is so beautiful and tranquil.”

“Maybe but you never know what the future holds Miss Amanda.”

“Quit calling me Miss Amanda. Would you just address me as Amanda from now on?”

“I will do that Amanda,” answered the Cajun with a smile.

As the trio exited the narrow passage to the canyon the old man headed west and spurred his ride to a gallop. After five minutes of blazing down the trail they came upon a large group of rough looking men after rounding a bend in the trail.

As the old man pulled up his ride Amanda surveyed the group of men. They were a motley looking bunch as if they had ridden out of a novel about outlaws she had read about in books describing how the American west was one hundred and fifty years ago. Several of the men had small empty cages attached to the rear of their saddles resting on their horse’s rumps. One of the larger cages contained an American bald eagle which surprised her. She wondered if the men were saving the national bird to eat later on at night.  Sitting amidst the group of men on horseback was an elderly man sitting on the most unique horse cart she had ever seen in her young life. Directly behind the old man sitting on his strange cart was a small wooden wagon with a stout cage containing a young healthy mountain lion. The big cat was calmly lying on the floor patiently watching the men.  The contraption the elderly man was sitting in had just one large wheel with long spokes.

“It is nice to see you Doc! You were supposed to be here yesterday by nightfall,” said Zak gruffly.

“Yeah, yeah and it is nice to see you too son.”

“Is this man your father?” asked Scott.

“He is. That grouchy old man is my Pop. So… why were you delayed Pop?”

“The reason I am late is because the damn FEMA inmates that you seem to have a penchant for setting free had tracking bugs in their bodies. I had to cut on seventeen of them yesterday afternoon in a hurry. We also saw a big government helicopter drop eight black clad men into the mountains about ten miles behind us last night. They know the general direction we are traveling and are trying to head us off thanks to those tracking bugs.”

“No Pop. They aren’t attempting to head us off. They are out to kill us.”

“What ever!” snarled the elderly man.

The elderly man was eyeballing Amanda intently with a grin. She was eyeballing him back. This man did look like a character that just stepped out of a novel about the old west. Amanda thought he looked more like an old time gold prospector and that he had an attitude like one.

“Well, at least you are getting better at this liberating crap son. That is one fine looking FEMA inmate. She is not near as ugly as the ones I had to operate on yesterday,” he laughed while easing off his one wheeled wagon.

“What does he mean by operate?” asked Scott with some concern in his voice.

“My father used to be a surgeon before Hussein declared martial law. He was an instructor in a teaching hospital in Reno. He fled with the family ten years ago and has been with the movement since then. He is going to cut out those tracking bugs on Amanda and you once he locates them.”

“You mean now?” exclaimed Scott.

“Now!”

“Out here in these unsanitary conditions?”

“Quit your whining big boy. It is just a minor thing. A little alcohol and a sharp clean knife will be more than adequate. If you don’t remove that bug soon you will be zeroed in on so quick you won’t know what hit you. When that happens and I have to do some major cutting on you then you can whine about unsanitary conditions, you big wuss.”

“You have no choice other than for you to head back down the trail towards Las Vegas or let the old man negate the bug in your body. We don’t want to be killed because of you,” said Zak.

“Hop off your horse and come to the back of my wagon. You need to come to my wagon too, young lady. I can give you a local if you are not that tough. It only takes me a minute and you won’t feel a thing. You may have a small scar about the size of a pinhead if you heal right.”

Amanda, for some reason, had no fear. She felt safe in the hands of the elderly doctor. She dismounted from Eric’s horse and walked up to the old man rolling up her left sleeve.

“I know all about the identity chip. The FEMA doctors told me that was what they were doing when they gave me the shot when I first arrived at FEMA camp 37. I would be very grateful to get that thing out of my body.”

Her assertive actions and words surprised Zak.

“My, my! Aren’t you a big girl! Come right over here young lady and let me scan you,” said Pop.

The old man pulled out a standard issue FEMA identity wand and approached the young woman.

“You will have to get nikked,” he declared in a loud voice.

“What?”

“Pop! Behave yourself you dirty old pervert!” yelled Zak.

The elderly man let a sly grin creep across his face.

“Well, I thought it was worth a try. She’s a fine specimen of woman,” he said as he began to wave the wand around Amanda’s body.

Amanda laughed and looking around she saw most of the men still on their horses had smiles on their faces.

The old man stopped the wand at her left wrist.

“Yep. You have a bug in your arm pretty lady. So did all the FEMA prisoners that are ahead of you moving down this trail. If you would be so kind to move over here to my private operating room I will take care of you. Todd, bring that big bird over here. He is about to gain his freedom and a tracking chip.”

Amanda followed the old man to a large dark green fiberglass box that was mounted on the rear of his unique one wheeled cart. While standing behind the cart she could hear a faint hum emanating from its undercarriage.  He opened the two doors on the fiberglass box to reveal an assortment of surgical tools, wraps, sterile cloth and plastic as well as glass bottles filled with liquids all neatly organized.

“What is with the big bird Doc?” asked Amanda watching one of the freedom fighters tote the big hardware cloth cage to set it on the ground beside the old man.

The American Bald Eagle was in a crouched position as if he was about to attack…anything.

“Once I get that miniature transmitter out of your arm I am going to inject it in the leg or wing of that eagle, which ever is easier. His beak is razor sharp as well as those long claws plus those damn birds are lightning fast and I don’t want to be stitching up anyone out in the field. Let the government boys track that sucker for awhile once we release him. Those damn birds can fly for hundreds of miles at a time. Earlier I placed seventeen of those transmitters in a few desert salamanders, a bunch of jackrabbits and two coyotes that we managed to capture earlier this week. The signals the government gets for the next few days should drive them crazy. Eventually the government knuckleheads sitting at their computer consoles watching transmitted signals from the bugs to their satellites high above us will figure out that I pulled the wool over their eyes but it will buy us some time to get to our base. Plus those animals are our allies. You will find that out in the future.  I wish more FEMA inmates would have fled from FEMA camp 37, the bunch of chicken shits. I still have ten salamanders waiting for a transmitter in a cage up the trail. Now I will have to turn them loose because we have no transmitters. Those desert lizards are extremely fast when they want to be and difficult to catch.”

Pop slid out a stainless steel tray from the base of his fiberglass box and after wiping it down with some alcohol in a sterile cloth he had Amanda place her left arm flat on the table. Then he scrubbed her lower arm with the same concoction.

“Do you want me to numb your arm?” he asked looking into her blue eyes with his face less than six inches away..

“How deep is the incision?” she asked.

“I will have to cut to the bone.”

Then he laughed at the young woman’s facial expression.

“I am just kidding young lady! The transmitter should be just below the surface of your skin!”

“Quit screwing around Pop! There is no need for that! You are just flirting and we are pressed for time!” yelled Zak who was standing nearby.

“Party pooper! Do you want me to give you a local?”

“Well, is this going to hurt?” asked Amanda.

“It will feel like getting a shot with a needle. Let’s see, yes, I can feel the transmitter just beneath your smooth skin. Damn, I wish I was young again!  It will be a very superficial incision to get to the transmitter and remove it,” he said rubbing his forefinger over her tattoo.

“Then let’s get it over with and quit screwing around!” exclaimed Amanda.

The old doctor held what looked like a needle nosed knife in his right hand along with a small metal box in his left.

The old man deftly made a small incision with the pointed knife and held the small rectangular metal box above the cut before any blood erupted. Amanda heard a small click originating from the metal box. Then the old man placed the shiny surgical knife on the table and grabbed a small butterfly bandage from an open box on one of his shelves while at the same time placing the small metal box on the steel table. The small metal box made a slapping sound once it was placed on the metal tray, not moving. The old man quickly swabbed the incision with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol and applied the bandage over the small, tight cut in Amanda’s arm.

“There, that wasn’t so bad was it? You are now good to go. In a couple of days you can remove the bandage. There shouldn’t be any scar at all.”

“That was it?”

“Yep.”

“What is that small metal object?”

“That small metal object is a powerful magnet. This is the hardest part getting that sucker off this table.”

The old man used the knife to pry an edge of the magnet off the tray. He finally managed to pry the strong magnet loose from the metal tray and held it in his right hand.

“Looky here,” he said facing Amanda.

Eyeing the magnet Amanda could see a small round object the size of a match head on its surface.

“Is that the transmitter? It is so small!”

“It is state of the art RHF technology.”

The old man picked up an air injector and placed it directly over the small transmitter using his surgical knife to loosen the tiny object off the magnet, sucking it up into a stout needle.

“Secure that eagle Todd. Animals don’t like injections in any way, shape or form and this is one wicked needle. Critters are not that different from people.”

Todd had some heavy gloves on his hands that extended up to his elbows. He reached into the side of the cage and pinned the big bird to where it couldn’t move. The Bald Headed American Eagle started to screech loudly. The old man reached in and discharged the injector into one of the eagle’s wings. The animal struggled briefly reacting to the breach into his personal space but then relaxed.

“Turn big bird loose. You are next big man,” said Pop turning to Scott.

Todd opened the cage door and the eagle immediately jumped to the pebble strewn ground. The animal walked in a circle with a very erect posture as if he was stretching his legs, turning his white head to eyeball the humans on horses nearby as well as Scott, Todd, Amanda and the elderly man Pop.

“He doesn’t seem to be to worried about us,” laughed Zak.

“All those damn birds have an attitude son. Keep a close eye on him!”

The eagle paused looking in the direction of the old man, lowered his body and then took four quick steps, launching his body into the air and spreading his magnificent wings.  He flew two feet above Amanda and the old man causing them both to duck. They could feel the downward air rushing around their bodies from the force of the eagle’s wings.

Within seconds the animal was rising into the blue sky/

While everyone watched the eagle rise into the sky Doc performed the same procedure he had performed before on Scott. Within two minutes the old man was approaching the young mountain lion in his cage with his air injector. The young animal began to immediately hiss and growl rising to his feet.

“My, my, he is an angry young fellow! These animals in the Nevada Sierras all seem to have bad attitudes. It must be the cold clean water,” said Doc.

“We caught him two nights ago the first time we set the trap. We had to take the chicken meat out because it was starting to rot because he was refusing to eat. He still hasn’t eaten a thing we have placed in the cage. He has been drinking water though,” said Todd.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Lions usually like to eat fresh kills.”

“We put a live jackrabbit in his cage last night. He killed the rabbit but he didn’t attempt to eat it. He has a nasty disposition that is all I can say and I don’t think he trusts us one bit.”

“That’s the way all those young mountain lions are until they find a mate. He sure is a fine specimen. Walk around to the other side of the cage opposite me and tap his cage with a stick so you won’t lose a finger. When he backs his butt against the wall of the cage I will nail him with my air injector. We will have to be careful when we release this character.”

“Don’t worry about that. We have done this many times over the past few years.”

Amanda moved closer to take a closer look at the young mountain lion who continued to growl.

“Hi Todd, My name is Amanda. You seem to know a lot about animals,” she said while shaking the middle aged man’s hand.

“Yes ma’am. I used to be a veterinarian in Ely, Nevada before I was placed in a FEMA camp ten years ago. I managed to get away after six months and have been with Doc and Zak since then. Nevada has some splendid animals so I still continue to practice in a beneficial way while helping the cause. We can track both of those animal’s movements for the next three years, maybe longer because of those transmitters. One day my research may help a new world and the animals I have met.”

“Okay, enough social interaction and lobbying for the cause Todd. Turn the damn cat loose! Good grief!” ordered Zak impatiently.

At that moment there was gunfire echoing through the mountains from the west. The gunfire sounded like it was close. Within ten seconds there was silence.

“It sounds like Georgia Boy and Ringo along with Doc’s boys found those FEMA agents who rode out here in the helicopter. Those stupid FEMA people don’t realize they don’t have a chance out here in these mountains,” said Zak.

“It sure did sound like gunfire. Look at our house cat! He certainly is old enough to know what gunfire is!” exclaimed Doc.

“He didn’t learn that from any of our scouts! I have inserted hundreds of mountain lions with long term tracking devices the last six years so our scouts usually know when one is nearby with the field notebook computers! If he has been shot at it was a farmer or a Homeland Security field agent! Our guys know the animals, especially mountain lions, are one of biggest assets!” exclaimed Todd.

The mountain lion was lying on his belly with his ears and head pointed to west in the direction from where the gunfire originated.  He had ceased growling and hissing.

“Now is the time to turn him loose, He will bolt out of that cage and head to the east like a bat out of hell,” said Todd.

Todd, who was standing beside the cage, reached down and tripped the release lever not showing the least concern of getting attacked. The young mountain lion did what Todd said he would do. He bolted forward ten feet and hung a left heading to the east down the trail. He was gone in less than five seconds.

“Wow! That was fast!” exclaimed Scott.

Several of the horses reared up on their hind legs once the big cat was freed. Once the cat was gone they settled down.

“Gee, that was fun don’t you think?” asked Doc.

The old man wiped down his stainless steel tray, pushed the tray back in place then closed the doors on his fiberglass box. He slowly mounted his seat in his strange one wheeled cart drawn by two horses apparently ready to go.

“Are we going home Zak? This long ass trip is wearing me out.”

“We sure are. We are going to stop by our secondary base for tonight before we make the final leg of our journey. You know you won’t make the secondary base from here by tonight. Why? Are you okay?”

“I was thinking about doing some fishing tonight, that’s why.”

“You may have the time to do that later today if you get the guts to travel the Nightmare Trail. Other than that you won’t be fishing unless you find a stream somewhere.  Let’s move it fellows,” ordered Zak.

“You are going to travel the Nightmare Trail? I thought we would be taking the usual way home and I know of a trout stream about two miles up this trail. That’s why I packed a ton of supplies.”

“If you thought I was taking the normal way home why didn’t you say something when I said we would be getting to the secondary base by tonight?”

“Humpff! I thought maybe you were lost and I didn’t want the men to think you didn’t know what you were doing, that’s why! You know son, your memory seems to slipping the older you get. That happened to your mom or have you forgotten about that?”

“So you are taking the long way home?” asked Zak.

“Your damn right I’m taking the long way home! I don’t like heights to start with and that trail is too dangerous for an old man like me!”

At that moment there was gunfire from the east that also sounded close. This time there was a lot of automatic gunfire.

“That sounds like the Jimbos just ambushed the FEMA trailers,” said Zak.

The men who had accompanied the FEMA inmates during this journey acted very nervous. They were taking their weapons off their backs.

“I wonder if any one got hurt?” asked Eric.

“I will know in a minute or two,” said Zak while calmly lighting a cigarette.

The party waited at the point where they meet Doc and his men. Soon three quick shots rang out in the air.

“Okay fellows you can relax. We can head home.”

“What did the three shots mean?” asked Scott while mounting his horse.

Amanda took Eric’s hand and mounted the horse she had shared with the young Cajun, wrapping her arms around his supple chest.

“That means our boys just acquired some good horses, at least two dirt bikes and a lot of supplies including new weapons. It’s already a good day. Let’s head up the trail to the forks in the trail and find Georgia Boy and Ringo. The Jimbos and their men will catch up with us by the time we get to the fork.”

With that order Zak spurred his horse and headed west keeping his horse at a walking pace. The rest of the riders followed with Amanda and the Swamp Fox bringing up the rear. Amanda kept turning around on the back of the horse keeping a wary eye for anyone coming up the trail from their rear. She felt safe and she was learning how to keep her freedom.

* * * * *

Chapter Seven

Wilderness Horror Story

After riding on the horses for three peaceful hours through some rough but wide open terrain and at some points on narrow mountain trails enjoying the majestic beauty of the rugged mountains in East Central Nevada the riders stopped to eat lunch and give the horses a rest. Where the retreating group stopped was another place where there was water. A shallow mountain stream was cascading rapidly between two large mountains on a high plateau in the desert. The air was markedly cooler at this higher elevation. The mountain stream was moving steadily and was only ten feet in width at this point of the trail. The water was ice cold and pure. Once stopping all of the thirsty horses drank from the stream while some of the riders started to remove cooking utensils and others gathered some firewood to build a small fire. Doc scrambled out of his one wheeled cart with a fly fishing rod and reel carefully standing by the fast moving water. He started casting in the quick moving stream from the bank. It was clear to Scott and Amanda that these men had done this before. They were laughing and making small talk while executing their duties like a well oiled machine. Everyone seemed relaxed.

Amanda dismounted her ride with the polite help of Eric and walked up to Zak who was still on his horse.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Zak was eyeballing a small thin piece of plastic he was holding in his right hand. Amanda thought that the plastic was being utilized by Zak to hold paper for writing purposes.

“Why, sure young lady! Do you know how to make coffee?”

“I think so.”

“I mean, do you know how to make coffee? Like real good coffee. We have some ground up coffee beans in a large pouch on Doc’s cart. Go over there and ask old Doc to watch you to see if you are doing anything wrong while you make it.  He likes stuff like that because it makes him think he is helping out plus he makes a mean pot of coffee. If you do something wrong he will correct you and don’t take it personal if he does. You learn to do it once, you will know how to do it correctly out in the field forever. Good coffee out in the field, especially on cold days in the desert, is a blessing from God. There are not many people on this world who know how to make a good cup of coffee. I really suck at making coffee and I have tried many times. You seem pretty smart to me. See if you can pull it off.”

“Who made the coffee at the box canyon? That was some good coffee,” said Amanda.

“Eric made the coffee. He learned from Doc. That Cajun kid is a smart boy and he and Doc are good friends. Ask him to help you too. He will like that. I think he likes you young lady.”

Amanda turned to look at Eric. He was patiently waiting for his horse to finish drinking from the stream.

“I think he is the type that likes any young woman.”

“You have him figured wrong. We have many good looking young ladies at our base camp. His eyes do not light up at the camp like they did when he first saw you. Just take your time woman. The Swamp Fox is one of my best scouts and their life expectancy hasn’t been long over the past ten years.”

“Okay, I will get Doc to show me how to make coffee. What are you doing with that plastic clipboard, about to take notes critiquing my performance?”

“I’m doing a little more than that young lady,” said Zak holding up the flat piece of plastic he was viewing. On the ten inch screen was an image that looked like a map with small blinking red dots.

“What is that?”

“I’m sorry.  I forgot that you were a youngster when you were placed in FEMA camp 37. You probably didn’t have one of these computers when you were that age. They were fairly expensive years ago when the dictator declared martial law and became president for life. Technology has come a long ways since then. This is a notebook computer that interfaces with satellites. We have disabled what is called the ping capabilities in the computer so we can’t be tracked by flying drones and we steal what is left of the internet, mostly from overseas. Right now I can see where we are in the mountains and what might be after us. Those red dots are the transmitters that are still working in this area, like the one we placed on the young mountain lion today. All my scouts have this unit somewhere in their saddle bags and they use them frequently. They are very adept at using this tool. It is an invaluable asset for us.”

Amanda started to cry softly.

“What is wrong? I didn’t mean to offend you or make you cry! What did I say to make you act like that?”

“It’s okay. I just feel so useless and so stupid.”

Zak laughed.

“You don’t have to worry about that. Here, take this unit. I have several in my saddlebags. Eric is very good with a notebook computer. He will show you some basics and when we get back to the secondary base you can get some one on one instruction from some very brilliant men. You are a smart girl so I am sure you will catch on quickly,” he said as he handed the notebook computer and a pack of batteries to the young woman.

Her face instantly lit up.

“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed while clutching the thin machine to her chest.

“Now go learn how to make a mean pot of coffee.”

The unmistakable sound of motorcycles could be heard to the east. The sound grew louder as the machines came nearer to where everyone had stopped for lunch. As the motorcycles got closer the sound of hoof beats could also be heard in the distance.

Within one minute three motorcycles and several men following horses with no riders arrived using the ravine trail and settled into the temporary camp area by the stream. The horses with no riders had expensive leather saddles with the Homeland Security logo imprinted on the saddlebags. The last of the new arrivals were Little Jimbo and Big Jimbo. Little Jimbo jumped off his horse and quickly walked up to Zak.

“Sorry it took us so long. We had to debug the motorcycles and all the weapons. You need to get Doc over here with his identity wand and his knife. I bet these horses have transmitters and we don’t have much time. While up on the tall mountain looking over the Las Vegas valley and surveying our trail we could see a cloud of dust rising to the sky in the distance. With my binoculars I could see eight riders with extra horses moving up the same trail we used and they were moving fast. From the looks of their uniforms they are members of Hussein’s Guard and they are heavily armed. I saw several RPG’s slung on their backs and more RPG”S in the packs on the horses that didn’t have a rider.  It looks like Homeland Security means business this time. Blowing up FEMA camp 37 must have really pissed them off.”

The Hussein Guard was reputed to be the best of the best and was normally the dictator’s personal enforcement and assassination unit. Nobody knew how many men were in the Hussein Guard but rumors put the number at a hundred thousand. The Hussein Guard was feared by the civilian population and the Guard’s members were mostly foreign soldiers with a sprinkling of traitorous Americans.

“It sounds like they may be mad. They probably have some surveillance drones in the air right now looking for us. It will be tough to spot us from the air once we get to the tree line in another mile. I think we better head those horses back to where they came from. I sure would like to get some more mountain horses but we don’t have the time and you know they have transmitters injected in their butts some where,” said Zak.

“We got the time! There are only twelve horses! I can locate and cut out those transmitters in less than ten minutes if somebody holds the horses still!” yelled Doc.

“Okay old man, move it then if you think you can do it!”

Doc placed his fishing rod on the rock bank and scrambled to his strange one wheel cart.  Within one minute was cutting on the first horse.

“What’s the plan Zak?” asked Big Jimbo while watching Doc.

The old man began to operate on the first horse, a big white stallion.

“It is not a good one but I have no choice. I want you and Little Jimbo to head up the trail at a gallop to the Nightmare Trail fork. Select a spot just beyond the fork to plant a plastics charge to cause a landslide to block our usual trail. Make it a light landslide that we can easily clear in the future in case we return to Las Vegas but strong enough to dislodge a few boulders to block the path. Wait until every one of our people get beyond the fork before you set it off. Hopefully, the Hussein Guard will choose to follow me on the Nightmare Trail or even better, turn around and go back to Las Vegas.”

“Are you going down that trail boss? You full well know that is one dangerous trail and what if some of it has become impassable since the last time any of us has gone across it? If it has become impassable since the last time anyone went across the trail and if the Hussein Guard decides to follow you that could be a big problem. You might find that you are trapped out in the open,” said Little Jimbo.

“Hopefully that hasn’t happened since the last time we used it. If I can get to the first small rest area I can pick off those guards on the curve of the mountain wall with my trusty AK47.”

“That would be like shooting fish in a barrel,” said Little Jimbo.

“Are you going by yourself?” asked Big Jimbo.

“I ain’t asking or telling anyone to go with me! Nobody likes that trail so I will understand why they wouldn’t want to go!”

“We have extra horses now. Amanda can ride one of those government horses and I will go with you Zak. I have been across that pass quite a few times. It saves two to three days traveling to the secondary base from this point and you will need another gun if the Hussein Guard does follow you,” said Eric.

“You are one crazy Cajun, Eric! I will go with Doc and the rest of the men if you don’t order me to go Zak,” said Big Jimbo. His eyes were wide with his statement.

“I will go with you too. The more guns that go with you the better off you will be and besides, you and I have done this before,” said Little Jimbo quietly.

“I want to go with you too!” exclaimed Amanda.

Her statement surprised the men.

“I would like to ride with you so could I have that white stallion that the guys just returned with?”

Little Jimbo turned in his saddle and eyeballed the white horse.

“That is one big horse Amanda. He looks pretty young so he might be unpredictable even for a government horse. Why don’t you pick a smaller horse more suited for your body?”

“I want that horse! He looks big and strong!”

“You can have the damn horse but you can’t go with us. The Nightmare Trail is at most ten feet wide for twenty or so feet and less than five feet in width for the rest. On your left is a sheer canyon wall going up five hundred feet to touch the blue Nevada sky and a sheer drop of more than two thousand feet on your right meeting a canyon floor. Just looking down into the canyon while riding your horse will get you dizzy and cause you to fall out of your saddle,” said Eric.

“I can handle my horse and heights don’t scare me!”

“Right! Well the Nightmare Trail scares the hell out of me. You should go with Doc and the men. That will be a much safer journey for you,” said Zak.

“What? I thought the whole idea of getting me out of FEMA camp 37 was so I could be free. Did that not include the freedom of choice to do whatever the hell I want to do?”

The men looked at each other silently. The young woman was making a point in the argument that was difficult to refute. Finally Zak spoke.

“Suit yourself lady. Anyone else want to take the shortcut home?”

No one said yes. Most squirmed uneasily in their saddles or where they were standing. Zak had made his point.

“Is this trail steep?” asked Amanda while looking over the remainder of the available horses standing nearby.

Zak suddenly spoke loudly.

“Doc! Put one of those transmitters in the saddle bag of the horse Amanda selected. That will insure that the Hussein Guard follows us on the Nightmare Trail. Place the remaining transmitters on the desert salamanders you have up the trail and turn them loose. If the Hussein Guard locates and kills one of the animals they will think we are trying to deceive them so hopefully they will search around and see the path to the Nightmare Trail. Maybe they will follow me. To answer your question, no the trail is not steep. It is a flat four and a half mile ride with a very rocky surface. There are two small nooks in the wall of the sheer cliff along the way where you can squeeze in four or five horses to get out of your saddle safely, water your ride and rest during the trip. They are also good places to settle your nerves. One nook is one mile down the trail and the last is one mile away from the exit. Most of the trail is so narrow you can’t turn around on your horse and towards the middle there is a sharp bend we call dead man’s curve. If you do lose your nerve and attempt to turn around on the five foot ledge at dead man’s curve most horses get spooked because of what they see and start rearing up on their hind legs. That means disaster and you are dead.”

“Have you seen anyone fall over the edge?”

At first no one volunteered an answer. Finally Eric spoke.

“We have seen a few. Personally, I think you should go with Doc.”

“Hurry up and eat men! We need to get moving. Those guards are only two or three hours away and with relief horses they will be here soon!” yelled Zak.

After a quick lunch the freedom fighters headed once again to the west after crossing the shallow stream. Amanda, now on the white stallion was riding beside Zak. Eric was also riding beside Zak.

“Zak, tell me more about this Nightmare Trail. Like how did the trail get that name and how many times have you used it?”

“Boy, you are a persistent woman!”

“I just want to be informed! Has everyone with us other than the freed inmates crossed the trail?”

Zak said nothing for a long minute. Neither did Eric.

“Yeah, all of my scouts in this part of Nevada have at least once in their life traversed the Nightmare Trail. Most of my scouts, after going across the Nightmare Trail one time, refuse to travel it again and I can’t blame them. Some of my men have traveled across that damn trail more than once. Those are my bravest or craziest scouts. I just ain’t figured it out yet. I guess the trail has become a benchmark with my scouts. How many times have you been down the Nightmare Trail Eric?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I reckon a dozen times, maybe more. Little Jimbo has been across it more times than me because Little Jimbo is crazier than me. Every time we have ridden together he always takes the Nightmare Trail home. That is why I don’t like to ride with that crazy fucker.  What is scary is riding on the trail all alone and I know Little Jimbo has done that more than a few times. When he does that it pisses his riding partner Big Jimbo off and he tells me all about it.  I can tell you one thing about that trail. You don’t want to be caught out on the ledge when it gets dark and I know Little Jimbo has ridden across that trail twice in the middle of the night to get home.”

“There was a full moon both nights!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“How many times have you used the shortcut Zak?” she asked.

“I don’t remember. Too many that’s for sure. The two or three day ride to our secondary hideout is a beautiful ride and a lot less stressful to travel but the option to take a three hour ride to get home and save two to three days is always alluring…sometimes.”

“I have taken the Nightmare Trail several times just for that reason, to get home after tramping around in the mountains a couple of weeks. When you have been out in the desert for a week or two you look forward to getting fed well and having a hot shower as soon as you can. Looking back on choosing that action it was probably a stupid decision because I had the time to take the normal trail,” said Eric.

“Has your father ever crossed the Nightmare Trail?” she asked.

Eric and Zak looked uneasily at each other.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“You want to tell her?” asked Eric.

“No, you go ahead and tell her about that ride son. I don’t want to remember.”

“Did something bad happen?”

“It wasn’t a good ride and there were some real heroes during that trip. We made the attempt because we had no choice. Kind of like it is now. We were being pursued by Homeland Security agents.  It was six years ago. Ain’t that about right Zak?”

“Six years ago next month,” replied Zak.

“Yeah, it seems like a long time now. Anyways, we had some sick people back at the main base and at the secondary base and we were in this area so Doc told Zak we needed some medicine. Like a whole damn store of medicine. So we planned a raid on the nearest Walgreen’s government pharmacy which was fifty miles away in North Las Vegas. It took us three weeks to plan the raid and get in position. During that time, even though we were trying to hurry, a couple of our people died at the main base and one at the secondary base because we didn’t have the proper medicine. Doc slowed us down but we needed him to go with us to tell us what medicine to get.”

“Well, you can’t blame Doc for moving slow. He must be eighty now. Six years ago he was still elderly,” interjected Amanda.

“Doc is seventy two years old now. He looks ancient because he has lived a wild life especially when he was younger, or so I have been told. Anyways, we did the raid and hauled ass out of North Las Vegas. There were six of us including Doc. One of those six was a kid from Brooklyn named Joey. He was twenty two at the time of the raid and he acted a lot like you lady. He was brash, assertive, educated. cocky and he was a fast learner. He was also brave and a bit too reckless. He had ridden with us for two years and to top it all off, he was a medical student somewhere in New York when he left the city because Homeland Security threw his mom and dad in a FEMA camp. Somehow by the grace of God he found the old man and started to further his education in medicine hanging with Doc. He proved to be invaluable out in the field back in the days when a lot of freedom fighters were getting shot and injured.  So to make a long story short, one of our men got shot executing the raid in North Las Vegas because of a gun toting pharmacist.”

“Was it the guy named Joey?”

“No. He was okay when we escaped. It was another man. Because of Doc’s wagon, which had four wheels at that time, we had to take an alternate trail to avoid the numerous desert ravines until we hit the hard pan plateau where we were this morning. The Homeland Security assholes were on our tails with horses and dirt bikes immediately after the heist. When we got to the fork in the road for the Nightmare Trail we decided that was our best option to survive and get away so we took it. That was Doc’s first and only trip across that trail. Zak and I were leading in front, one guy was riding in the wagon along with Doc as shotgun and the injured man was lying in the back of Doc’s wagon.  Joey was covering our rear. I remember it was a clear and cold day on the main trail to Las Vegas but there were clouds drifting around the Nightmare Trail at the same height of the ledge reducing visibility once we got on the other side of the mountain. When we got to the first rest area was when the Homeland Security agents materialized at the exit of the passage and the entrance to the Nightmare Trail.  There were a lot of them. We managed to get the wagon and the horses squeezed into the nook under heavy gunfire without anyone getting shot just in the nick of time. We started to pick off the government people on the ledge on the opposite side of the canyon with our AK 47s which was just five hundred yards away watching them and their horses fall off the ledge until they produced a rapid fire heavy machine gun at the entrance pinning us down. At that time I thought we all were dead.”

Eric paused for a moment at the painful memories.

“What did your men do next?”

“We were holding them off for a while jumping out from the safety of our place of refuge popping off quick shots until a few of the Homeland Security agents managed to get to a lateral position on the ledge in relation to our location. To pop out and take a quick shot at them after that happened would mean getting shot and killed.  Joey snapped. He went over to Doc’s wagon and grabbed a couple of bottles of alcohol and made impromptu Molotov cocktails. He had two, one in each hand. We yelled at him to stop but he didn’t listen. He lit both bottles, and before we could stop him he jumped on his horse and took off at a gallop on the narrow ledge towards the Homeland Security men on our flank. It was the bravest and maybe the most foolish thing I have ever seen in my life. I still don’t know to this day. When he got ten feet in front of the first Homeland Security horse he threw one bottle high on the wall above the government goons. The bottle exploded sending fire down on the Homeland Security men and their horses. The government horses went into a panic and started to rear on their hind legs disrupting the gunfire from the Homeland Security agents. Ten or twelve of them went over the ledge within a second, horse and man falling two thousand feet. I could see some of the agents still mounted on their animals during the long fall. Joey continued to ride through the resulting fire on the narrow ledge and on the sheer cliff wall. He then threw the second Molotov cocktail up on the wall again. There were a lot more than twelve horses with their men that went off the narrow ledge to fall to their death that time. One of those men was carrying a rocket propelled grenade and it went off while he and horse were engulfed in flames. The rocket grenade exploded on the wall twenty feet above Joey’s head knocking Joey and his horse off the ledge along with more government agents on their horses. It all happened very quickly.”

Amanda gasped.

“That is horrible! How did you manage to get away? Weren’t there still some more men?”

“There were a few. Zak and I stepped out from behind the walls of our nook and killed quite a few more agents with the AK47’s at the tunnel exit across the canyon. The agents finally retreated when they realized there was a lot of rubble like large rocks, dead men and dead horses on the Nightmare Trail making it very dangerous to traverse on a horse. A year later we went back to clear the ledge and find Joey’s body along with the horse’s body and saddle. Doc was pretty shaken about Joey’s death. Then things went from bad to worse.”

“How could it have gotten any worse? That is a bad enough story!”

“After an hour we decided it was safe to move out of the nook. We got back on the Nightmare Trail with Zak, me and Doc with his wagon. The guy riding shotgun with Doc was named Jim, Jim Wagnor.  He was a man from the south like me. I think he was from a small town somewhere in Central Florida and he had been with us from the very beginning. We thought we were home free. As we were working our way down the trail it got real narrow, what I call scary narrow. The wagon wheel’s on Doc’s cart were five feet wide and was barely clearing the edge of the ledge while we went around dead man’s curve. Doc was doing a good job keeping the wagon close to the sheer wall. You could hear the wood on the wagon scraping the rock wall several times while we traveled and we were moving slow. At some point on the trail the ledge was only four feet eleven inches wide. The right wagon wheels slid off the trail and the axels fell down to hit the granite ledge hard. When it did that, Jim and the injured man who was lying in the back of the wagon were thrown off the wagon to fall to their deaths. Doc barely held on to his seat until the horse managed to miraculously pull the wagon back on the trail. For a long few seconds Zak and I both thought the wagon was going over the edge along with the horse and Doc. At that point of the ledge, there is no room to get off your saddle to help anyone.”

“So that’s why Doc had that one wheeled wagon constructed!”

“Yes ma’am. What happened that day really shook him up bad. The following month he got with our engineers and designed what he drives now to navigate the trails. He and the engineers built some onboard gyros in the bottom of his wagon. When it is unhooked from a horse it will stay upright on one wheel no matter where the weight shifts. That one wheeled cart is an amazing piece of work. It has worked well the last six years on these dangerous trails in the mountains but he has never traversed the Nightmare Trail since that day.”

“So he has never gone down the Nightmare Trail since then?”

“Nope. And he is the one who named the trail. He tells everyone he still has nightmares about what happened that day. Ever since that day that is what everyone calls it.”

Amanda was quiet.

“That is a horrible story,” said Scott.

“Wait until you see the distance of the fall. It is a good two thousand feet to a steep rock strewn slope that runs another thousand feet to the canyon floor. That’s a terrible way to die, being alive while you are falling through the air knowing that the stop is going to kill you,” said Eric.

Amanda had shivers going up and down her spine. What Eric had just described was hard to visualize.

“We are at the fork in the road. Where is Little Jimbo?” asked Zak.

“He is ahead of us two hundred yards waiting for everyone. He just sent me an email on my notebook saying everything is ready and he will be joining you for your ride across the Nightmare Trail as soon as everyone is clear and on the west side of the trail. He said the explosives are in place,” said Todd who was riding behind Amanda.

Zak looked above the trail to see several boulders perched in precarious positions above the usual trail.

“What do you think?” asked Eric looking at Zak with a grin on his face.

“I hope he has placed the charges in the proper places. I would hate to see some of those real large boulders come down and rest on the trail. I plan on us coming back to Las Vegas in the future. This trail has proven to be one great ride and necessary for us to get people and critical supplies. Everyone get to the west not going with me across the Nightmare Trail. Make sure Little Jimbo is coming back here to detonate. He doesn’t need to be showing off his horse climbing over the rubble.” asked Zak.

Todd typed on his notebook computer.

“Yes, he is on his way. He also says check your computer. The Hussein Guards are approaching us quickly and they will be at this location within an hour. I think Little Jimbo is starting to get a little excited.”

“Rush, rush, rush. Little Jimbo worries too much. Let’s move it people. Pop, I will see you in a couple of days and I just wanted you to know that I love you,” said Zak.

“Yeah, yeah. You always tell me that when you think you are gonna’ get killed. Just stay close to the sheer wall and you should be fine. And don’t forget to check the wind before you go out on dead man’s curve,” the elderly man answered as he flicked his reins on his horse moving up the trail.

Within one minute the only people left at the fork in the trail was Zak, Eric, Amanda and surprisingly Scott. The big man had decided he was in for this ride. Little Jimbo was on his way.

“Uh, what do you think you are doing big man?” asked Zak.

“I reckon I am about to get baptized,” answered Scott.

Eric and the old man looked at each other with concern on their faces. Eric was shaking his head no not saying a word.

“I don’t want to hear the same argument I just heard from the woman but you haven’t ridden a horse very much. What are you trying to do, commit suicide by horse?” asked the old man.

“No. I want to be a person who fights for my freedom plus I think you might need some help from what I just heard earlier. I want to go and help. It seems no one else wants to go.”

Eric looked at the old man and shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you know how to use an automatic weapon?” asked Zak.

“No, but I am willing to learn. Can’t you set the weapon where all I have to do is slide the safety or something like that and then pull the trigger?”

“What do you have Eric?” asked the old man.

“I have a Tec Nine with six clips loaded and ready to go in one of my saddle bags. That is a bad ass gun and if he wants to use it he is more than welcome to. They are easy guns to operate,” answered the Cajun.

“What about me? I would like to have a weapon!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I don’t have an extra weapon!” exclaimed the old man.

“Well! Get me one!” demanded Amanda.

Little Jimbo at that moment joined the group from the west. He had a grin on his face and was carrying a small box in his right hand.

“We are ready to blow the trail!”

“Jimbo, do you have an extra weapon?” asked Zak.

“You bet I do! I just acquired two Colt three eighty automatic pistols from the Homeland Security agents we killed earlier with eight clips and six boxes of ammo. They are super nice automatic pistols worth a pretty penny!”

“That sounds real good, Jimbo! Give them both to Amanda to make her happy and shut her up.”

“For real? Do you know how to fire a pistol like the Colt?”

Little Jimbo removed one of the pistols from one of his saddlebags and handed the weapon to the young woman.

She took the pistol, cocked it and fired several shots at a distant cactus blowing it to pieces.

“Damn girl! That is pretty good shooting!”

The young woman twirled the gun on her pointer finger stopping the weapon in her hand.

“I did a lot of target shooting when I was young with my father. He was into weapons.”

“That might be the real reason you wound up in a FEMA camp when you were young,” said Zak.

“Ohh, shut up Zak! You make me so mad sometimes!”

“Mad enough to make you plug me?”

The young blonde haired woman looked at the old man with an evil grin on her pretty face.

“Almost/”

“Here are the agent’s holsters. I hope you like your new weapons,” said Little Jimbo.

Amanda took the holsters and leaned off her horse to give the young man a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you Little Jimbo.”

Her action froze the young scout sitting in his saddle. Zak and Eric laughed.

“So Miss Priss, I too, believe in the teachings of Jesus Christ. Do you think you will be able to use those weapons to kill a human? If not, you need to give those pistols back to Little Jimbo.”

“Just because I said I believe in the teachings from Jesus does not mean I won’t defend myself and my friends. I also believe in the saying pertaining to an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”

Zak eyed the young woman intently.

“Does that mean one of us will have to get killed before you do anything?”

“No! I will fight like everyone else!”

“Okay. I hope we don’t’ have to find out if that is true. Is everyone on the other side of the trail Little Jimbo?” asked Zak.

Little Jimbo stood in his stirrups and waved to Todd who was two hundred yards to the west.

“Everyone who is going to use the normal trail is where they should be.”

“Then do your thing,” ordered the old man.

“Wait! Wait! Someone is waving their arm! It looks like Georgia boy!” exclaimed Scott standing in his stirrups.

“I believe that is Georgia Boy!” said Eric.

“That is good news! I was wondering when him, Ringo and the boys were going to join us,” said Zak.

Georgia Boy had his steed at a full gallop. The man stopped his horse to where it was right beside Amanda’s mount. The young woman still had the pistols lying across her saddle that Little Jimbo had handed to her one minute ago. Zak and Little Jimbo became uneasy because they weren’t sure what the young woman would do upon seeing Georgia Boy. Georgia Boy acted like he always acted, unconcerned.

“I heard you managed to get away girl. I’m sorry I had to do what I did but you left me no choice.”

Amanda looked hard at the big man from the south. No one knew what to expect from the volatile woman.

Suddenly, she extended her right hand.

“There are no hard feelings Georgia Boy. I understand now what you did. Thanks for saving my life.  I hope we can be friends.”

Georgia Boy shook her extended hand.

“Welcome to Free America. What was your name? I am terrible with names.”

“My name is Amanda.”

“Welcome to Free America Amanda. Are you planning on journeying across the Nightmare Trail?  Do you know how to ride a mountain horse that well?”

“I guess we will find out this afternoon.”

Georgia Boy gave Zak an uneasy look but said nothing.

“Zak, I have two gifts for you compliments of Homeland Security. They are still hot and here are two extra rockets. I figured they may come in handy on the Nightmare Trail.”

Georgia Boy handed over two rocket propelled grenade launchers, one to Zak and one to Little Jimbo. He also handed an extra rocket to each.

“Wow! Thanks for the gift! Lord, I hope we don’t have to resort to using one of these things on the trail. The last time that happened one of us got killed,” said Little Jimbo.

“Those are some heavy duty grenades. These grenades are a lot more powerful than the one that was used six years ago. The heads on these grenades are three times larger than the ones I was familiar with when I was in the Seals. Just keep that in mind in case you have to use them,” said Georgia Boy.

“I gotta’ go people! I can hear hoof beats coming from Las Vegas and I sure don’t want to go down the Nightmare Trail! See you in a couple of days…hopefully. Good luck!”

The big man turned his horse and spurred the animal into high gear to the west. Within one minute he had joined Doc and the rest of the freedom fighters.

“Set off the plastics Little Jimbo!” ordered Zak.

Little Jimbo pulled a small black box out of his pocket and without any hesitation pushed a small red button of its face.

A large explosion erupted up the south side of the mountain butting the usual trail sending large rocks, dirt, smoke and fire into the air. Soon even larger rocks tumbled down onto the trail blocking the way. These were large rocks that would be difficult to move in the future.

“Oops!” said Little Jimbo while surveying his work.

Zak gave Little Jimbo a frown and shook his head not saying a word. Zak lifted a walkie talkie to his face.

“Is everyone okay on your side Ringo?”

“We are good to go. I think Little Jimbo used a little more C4 than what he should have but we can clear the trail with the same stuff once we use it again. See you guys in two or three days and be careful.”

The small group of scouts waiting to travel the Nightmare Trail could hear laughter coming across Zak’s communication radio.

“Not too bad Little Jimbo. At least the Hussein Guard will have to turn around or follow us because they won’t be going any farther on the Las Vegas Trail. Let’ get going. I want to get to the first rest area on the Nightmare Trail with plenty of time on my side of the balance sheet just in case those government boys decide to follow us.”

Chapter Eight

The Passageway of Faith and the Nightmare Trail

Zak spurred his horse and pulled his right rein. The horse turned and galloped up a steep narrow trail beside the same mountain Little Jimbo had just dynamited.

“I hope that blast didn’t knock some rocks loose in the passageway to block our path,” said Zak over his shoulder as he left.

“There is a path through this mountain?” asked Amanda.

Looking up all she could see was a sheer wall of limestone and granite rock.

“Yes there is. You can’t see it from the normal trail because the crack faces west. From the trail it looks like one solid mountain but it ain’t. There is a crack around twenty feet wide that runs five thousand feet through the middle of the mountain. The walls on each side of the passage are five to six hundred feet high and the path is flat with hardly any big rocks. Millions of years ago the mountain separated creating the passageway, according to Doc. Doc will tell you that only God could have created the passage and that he did it just for us to test our faith. In the same breath he will tell you that Satan created the Nightmare Trail to do the same thing. Riding through the passageway is scary enough until you get to the end which is the start of the Nightmare Trail. When you get to that point you will forget how ominous the passageway is,”

Little Jimbo spurred his horse to follow Zak up the steep trail.

“Let’s go you two. It’s two late to back out now. Those guards are closing fast!” exclaimed Eric.

Scott and Amanda spurred their horses and Eric followed them up the steep trail. After five minutes of strenuous climbing by the horses, the five riders found themselves on top of a rock strewn level piece of ground. To the right was a towering black monolithic opening into the mountain. From their vantage point they could see the Hussein Guards crossing the flat hard rock plateau they had been on earlier in the day. The guard’s horses were at a full gallop and they were moving fast.

“With those relief horses they have covered some ground Zak!” exclaimed Eric.

“Yeah they are coming on strong. They will be here in one hour. Do we have extra headlamps Jimbo?” asked Zak.

“We sure do. They are in your right hand saddlebag, Scott and Amanda. They have new batteries and are ready to go.”

Zak and Little Jimbo had already placed the elastic banded lights on their heads where the device rested on the upper part of their forehead. Scott and Amanda found their lights and after fumbling around for a few seconds had them in place.

“Hey, how come I have only one headlight? I see that you and Little Jimbo have three lights on your head and your lights are a lot brighter than mine! Eric has headlights like that too! Is it that dark in there?” asked Amanda.

“It is that dark in there lady and when we are through you will appreciate daylight more than you ever have in your life. Do you have your snake charmer ready to go to church Little Jimbo?” asked Zak with his coarse southern drawl.

“I am ready for the service! Which side of the Passageway of Faith are you taking this time?” asked Little Jimbo while cocking his snake charmer.

“What kind of gun is that Jimbo?” asked Amanda.

“This is a modified four ten chopped off automatic shotgun that holds a twenty round clip. At a length of twenty inches it is the perfect weapon for killing rattlesnakes when you are on your horse and moving fast.”

“Rattlesnakes! What do you mean by that?” asked Amanda.

“Yeah, what do you mean by that?” echoed Scott.

“Have you ever heard about those snakes handlers in those churches in the south that show their faith by handling poisonous snakes like rattlesnakes?”

“Of course! Everybody knows about the snake handlers!” exclaimed Scott.

“Well, they are proving their faith in God by handling rattlesnakes. We scouts call this dark passage our church and we named it the Passageway of Faith. It is where we handle snakes with style. There are two ways that we recognize as a way to show your faith in God. You can be like Todd the veterinarian and get off your house to remove the rattlesnakes by hand which that crazy likes to do so he can put a transmitter on the critters or you can ride your horse full tilt shooting as you go with a snake charmer praying that you and your horse don’t get bit. Or you can walk ahead of your horse and kill them as you go which is a good way of getting bit because there are a ton of rattlesnakes in that dark passage. That is more dangerous and takes a hell of long time. All of the scouts I know prefer to handle our snakes with a snake charmer. Todd is the only fellow I know who likes to play with them.”

“Oh my God! I hate snakes!” yelled Amanda.

“Me too lady! Especially the ones that can kill you,” said Little Jimbo.

“Eric! Since you are bringing up the rear why don’t you have your snake charmer ready to go?” asked Zak eyeing the Cajun with a frown on his face.

Eric was sitting in his saddle in a casual manner.

“Do you think I will need it? I thought you and Jimbo were clearing the way during the service!” he answered with a smile.

“I think you better have it out and ready to go. You never know when me or Little Jimbo might miss a rattler poised on a boulder ready to strike your pretty friend.”

“Okay Zak. I will carry my snake charmer,” he answered pulling the short gun out of a holster fastened to his saddle.

“Oh my God! You guys are scaring me shitless!”

“You said you are a woman of faith Miss Priss. Start reciting the Lord’s Prayer. That always works for me,” drawled Zak.

Zak spurred his horse once again to bring it to a fast trot and entered the darkness of the massive black crack with Little Jimbo following close behind.

Immediately the sound of shotgun blasts started to thunder out of the dark passage. The shooting was rapid and very loud as Scott and then Amanda entered the darkness of the Passageway of Faith.

Once entering the dark path Amanda looked upwards to see if she could see any blue sky.

“Amanda! What the hell are you doing? Keep your eyes forward! There are rock outcroppings on this trail that can rip your pretty head off! Once Zak and Little Jimbo clear the first part of the passageway we are gonna’ be moving fast!” yelled Eric.

Amanda quickly lowered her head keeping her eyes forward. The horses picked up their pace to a faster trot. It wasn’t a full gallop but it wasn’t slow. During the trip she had to duck underneath several rock outcroppings. For Scott, who was a big man, he found it necessary to lay his chest on his horse’s neck to avoid getting hit by a low hanging rock and brushed off his saddle. Amanda was griped with fear as she could clearly hear the sounds a desert rattlesnake makes. From the volume of sound there were a lot of rattlesnakes. To compound the situation the dark trail curved and changed directions several times during the trip. Amanda was wondering how anyone could ever be crazy enough to enter this trail to start with. She started to wonder how Zak knew about its existence. Along the way the shooting continued but now the shotgun blasts happened sporadically.

Amanda was staying low in her saddle. During the trip she, for some reason, had turned her head to her left. At that moment she heard a loud bang from behind and at that instant saw a rattlesnake that was coiled on a boulder about waist high to her left shatter into pieces. The Cajun riding behind her had probably saved her from being bitten. When that happened she gripped her saddle horn with her right hand tighter and started to recite the Lord’s Prayer out loud.

The group continued at a fast trot for thirty minutes when finally, to Amanda’s relief, she saw a sliver of blue rising vertically for five to six hundred feet in the distance. She realized that the thin blue streak was Nevada sky. The blue thin column beckoned to her from one thousand feet away. Finally the dark passageway was a straight and level path relatively free of loose rocks, rock outcroppings and rattlesnakes. Looking up briefly she could also see a thin blue line that was easily five to six hundred feet away directly over her head. As her horse trotted closer to the twenty foot opening she saw Zak resting on his saddle with his horse effectively blocking the trail and his smoking snake charmer facing the sky. When Little Jimbo, who was in front of Amanda, arrived to where Zak was resting he jumped off his saddle to the ground and turned to wait on Scott and Amanda’s arrival. Eric who was bringing up the rear also reined in his horse and jumped off to the ground. He immediately began to rummage through his left saddle bag.

“Eric! Get that…”

“I am already ahead of you Zak!”

The young Cajun grabbed a plastic case and once opening the lid held a stethoscope in his hand.

“Check the horses to see if our prayers helped Little Jimbo, including mine,” ordered Zak.

Little Jimbo circled every horse with his bright lights checking their legs.

“I don’t see any bite marks. Damn, we were blessed this time. The church was full of rattlesnakes, the most I have ever seen.”

Scott and Amanda were still in their saddles, frozen. Both were terrified to dismount.

“Scott, dismount your horse for a minute or two please. Bring the horse over here Little Jimbo,” continued Zak.

As Scott dismounted his horse Amanda spoke, loudly as usual.

“What the hell is going on Zak? You take us on a wild dark ride and then when we get to the end you block the way to daylight and tell us to dismount in a tunnel full of rattlesnakes! What is going on?”

Zak moved his horse to where it was parallel with the wall of the passageway.

“Would you zip it and just give me a few minutes to perform my duties and then I will explain everything. Or better yet just watch and learn for once in your life. My actions along with Little Jimbo and Eric will explain far better than I can with words.”

Little Jimbo handed over the reins to Scott’s horse while taking the reins to Zak’s horse. Amanda moved closer to the opening and what she saw made her fall to her knees. Her body began to shake uncontrollably. She wasn’t sure if the shaking was from fear or the cold air briskly blowing into the opening of the dimly lit passageway.

Behind Zak less than six feet away was a flat rock surface and then after that was…nothing. There was open space for as far as the eye could see.

“Oh my God! If you weren’t paying attention and especially when your eyes started to adjust to the bright sunlight I might have ridden right over the edge!”

“What do you think would happen if you saw the blue sky after riding through that dark passageway and you were moving at a full gallop?” asked Zak.

Scott moved to stand beside Amanda and what he saw made him shiver also. Beyond the ledge was a vast canyon that rivaled the Grand Canyon. He estimated the distance to the opposite rim to be thirty miles away and the bottom to be at least two miles down.

He too, found his knees shaking uncontrollable. He reached out with his right arm to lean against the granite wall to steady his body.

“The opposite rim is forty seven miles away and the distance to that little stream at the bottom, which is actually a good sized river, is nine miles away,” said Zak.

“How did you know I was going to ask that?”

“Because when I bring people here for the first time in their life they always ask that question first.”

“Why did you want my horse?”

“Just a minute and I will demonstrate. Eric, do you hear anything?”

Eric was down on his hands and knees with the tubes of the stethoscope inserted in his ears.

“I can hear hoof beats and they are very faint. The guards aren’t on this trail…yet.”

“Good. Keep your ear to the ground for now until we are ready to ride. It will give the horses a chance to rest and for us to water them. Now to answer your question Scott I want you to watch and learn. There are many types of horses in this world but in these big ass mountains there are only two. One type of horse is what we call a trail horse. The term pretty much is self explanatory. A trail horse can climb up the steep trail like we just did at the entrance to the hidden passageway. The other is what I call a mountain horse. That type of horse is not only a good trail horse they are also not afraid of and accustomed to heights. And by heights I mean great heights, just like you see in front of you. Watch. I will walk your horse right to the edge of the ledge. If he is a mountain horse he will stop, stand and look around to see where he is at.”

Amanda and Scott watched with fear on their faces as the old man walked with the horse to the edge of the ledge. Both of their bodies began to tremble.  One more foot would result in a two thousand foot fall to a sloping wall of rock that stretched for another thousand feet. The horse stood calmly looking out over the vast valley having no reaction to the extreme height. The old man and the animal stood for a long minute turning their heads from one side to the other looking over the vastness of the panoramic landscape ignoring the cold mountain wind that was terrifyingly strong, too strong for any animal or man to be standing on the edge of a two thousand foot sheer cliff.

“It sure is a magnificent view of God’s country now ain’t it boy? You lucky animal! Not many of God’s land critters get the chance to stand where we are standing in their lives! Now this is a mountain horse! Good boy!” said Zak while petting the horse’s neck. He moved Scott’s horse back into the passageway and handed the reins to Little Jimbo. Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. The visual nightmare was over…for now.

“How are we doing Eric?”

The Cajun was still on his hands and knees listening to the granite floor with his stethoscope. After ten seconds he finally answered the old man.

“I think one rider is climbing the incline to the entrance. I don’t hear any steady hoof beats and we would be hearing some gunshots I would think. We didn’t get nearly half of the rattlesnakes when we came through.”

“That means we have plenty of time.”

“How do you know that?” asked Amanda.

“Good lord woman! Just watch and learn how to survive!”

Little Jimbo let a grin creep across his face but he didn’t dare laugh. He knew that Zak was real serious for now. At one time in his life he had received the brunt of Zak’s sharp tongue asking the same stupid question. He had learned that day how to zip his lip at certain times and to learn from the grizzled old man.

“Let’s see what Amanda’s horse is going to do. I was watching this fine white government stallion climb that sharp incline and it seemed to me the big boy was acting a little goofy.”

Zak took the reins from Little Jimbo and as he and the horse approached the edge of the ledge the animal snorted, whinnied and attempted to rear up on its rear legs. Zak held the reins tightly and quickly moved the animal away from the edge of the Nightmare Trail back into the exit of the Passageway of Faith.

“I thought so. How would you like to be on this horse when it does what it just did on that five foot wide ledge Amanda?”

Now Amanda’s body was shaking like a leaf. She looked out at the Nightmare Trail and how it wound around the mountain.

“I would have been dead!”

“The horse would be too. He would have tried to turn around and there just isn’t enough room. He would have gone off the ledge head first taking his rider with him.”

“So what are we going to do and which way are we headed? From here the Nightmare Trail runs in both directions!” asked Amanda.

“Yes it does. You are going to double up like you did before with Eric. If you take the trail to your right you will be riding to your death. You will see what I mean once we go to the left and get around this big semi circular wall. There is no room to turn around after you go right and after four miles of some dangerous riding the Nightmare Trail ends into a five hundred foot sheer wall. Can you both see that narrow crack in the wall towards the bend in the mountain opposite of just about where we are standing now?”

He pointed with his left hand while still holding the reins tightly of the white stallion who was acting very fidgety.

Amanda crept out to the inner edge of the Nightmare Trail. She had no desire to stand near the edge where a person could fall to their death like Zak had performed with the two horses. To make matters worse the cold wind was blowing briskly into the semi circular part of the mountain finding no where to go but up creating strong and unpredictable wind currents and gusts of air.  There were also white puffy clouds moving quickly in the Nevada air that were not only above their present position but also below. Their elevation was high, very high.

When she felt safe enough to take her hand off the passageway wall she looked to the opposite sheer wall to see if she could locate the cranny.

“I can’t see it.”

“Trust me, it is there young lady. That is where we want to be in no more than thirty minutes.  Through that narrow break is a hidden opening that is around twenty by twenty feet where the horses can be hidden until we see what happens with the guards. You can see the ledge we have to navigate in this semi circular part of the mountain. This part of the trail you can see is just over one mile in length and most of the trail is wider than normal, from six to eight feet. That bend where the trail disappears is dead man’s curve. That is where I lost my boys six years. Out on that part of the ledge is where the wind is the greatest and the Nightmare Trail is the most dangerous. Right now we need to get our butts over there. We can ask questions later. Eric, let’s go!”

Eric jumped up from his doggy position and mounted his horse moving the big animal closer to the exit of the passage to be on the trail.

“I think the guards are at the entrance. They are probably having a committee meeting on the rattlesnakes in the Passageway of Faith. If it was me I would be voting to go back to Las Vegas!” he exclaimed with a grin on his face.

“I hope that happens but I wouldn’t count on that Cajun! There is probably a life long bureaucrat riding one of those horses and you can count on some damn foreigner being in the group that doesn’t know shit about an American rattlesnake or how to ride in these mountains. Let’s get this over with!”

Zak, Little Jimbo and Scott mounted their steeds.

“What are we gonna’ do about Spooky?” asked Amanda.

The blonde grabbed the reins of the white stallion once Zak released them. She was worried about him falling over the ledge.

“Spooky? Oh, the scared horse. Well, we can leave it here, head it back into the passage or take it with us I guess. None of the choices are particularly good,” said Little Jimbo.

“Why is that?” asked Scott.

“If we send it back in the passage it will probably get spooked once it gets in where it is dark and runs across a rattler. Then he will turn around and run out of the passage full tilt taking a swan dive down to the canyon floor. If we leave him here he may try to follow us or take a right down the dead end trail. Either of those choices will most likely result in a fall.”

“Why can’t we take him with us? He looks like a young, expensive horse and he sure has a nice saddle. He seems to be very smart and friendly. I like that white stallion!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I was scared you were gonna’ ask that but I should have known,” said Zak.

“We probably shouldn’t bother with the horse Amanda,” said Eric over his shoulder.

“Why not? Is he that dangerous to ride?”

“Yes,” said the three experienced freedom fighters at the same time.

“We can’t stay here and debate this! Do you want to try to save the animal?” asked Zak.

Zak loved the big animals known as horses.

Amanda nodded her head yes without verbally answering.

“Okay, take his rein in your left hand and place your left hand behind your back. Hold the rein tight but don’t you do something stupid like wrap it around your wrist. If the horse hesitates you will need to yank on the rein hard to keep him moving forward. If he rears up and tries to turn around let the rein go because he will be going over the edge. This is a stupid maneuver but we don’t have the time to argue anymore. Follow me,” said Zak.

Then the old man moved out on the Nightmare Trail on his horse and turned to the left. Scott went next followed by Little Jimbo and then Eric with Amanda sitting on the rear part of his saddle. Eric seemed unconcerned, shaking his head.

“I will give you two ten to one odds!” yelled Eric.

“I ain’t taking those odds. It is a sure bet for you Swamp Fox!” yelled Little Jimbo turning around in his saddle to face Eric.

“What does that mean?” whispered Amanda to Eric.

“I am betting them ten silver dollars against one of theirs that the white stallion is going off the ledge. My job right now is to make sure you don’t follow him.”

The young woman did what the old man instructed with Spooky’s reins clutching them tightly in her left hand with her arm placed behind her back. She turned her head slightly while sitting on the back part of Eric’s saddle facing the sheer wall and clicked her tongue several times. The horse with no rider perked his ears and started to follow the group.

At first the animal started to snort and shake his head which sent chills up the young woman’s spine. Amanda, by glancing over her left shoulder, could see the animal’s eyes darting to the right at the abyss and they were expressing fear but the horse continued to follow the woman as she jerked the reins in her left hand and continued to click her tongue. She gritted her teeth and held the reins tighter while clicking her tongue louder. The men riding the horses in front of her and Eric never once turned their heads to look back and continued at a steady walking pace on the narrow ledge.

After one hundred yards the big white stallion settled down, ceased his snorting and calmly walked behind Eric’s mount. The white stallion’s confidence was growing with each passing step. Amanda was growing more comfortable with the dangerous ride thanks to the fact she was constantly facing the sheer wall and never looking anywhere else. Her left arm was in use and her right arm was tightly hooked around Eric’s torso. She pressed her body close to his.

Scott, however, was as stiff as a statue in his saddle. He never turned his head to the left or right keeping his eyes focused on the old man’s back. When the wind would gust, which was often, he would stiffen even more.  During the trip he never moved his arms or his hands holding his reins. He was too frightened to move. He was taking the old man’s advice to heart not daring to look at the bottom of the canyon while on his horse.

While continuing to progress on the Nightmare Trail Scott saw the old man fasten what looked to be a small metal box in a crack in the sheer wall in one move with his left hand without stopping his mount. The old man did this three times.

Little Jimbo was resting comfortably in his saddle often moving as natural as he could be. He was acting as if he was riding a horse in some park or as if he was on any ordinary trail. He would turn in his saddle many times to look at Eric and Amanda.  Twice he took out a pack of cigarettes and smoked, turning his body to shield the flame of his lighter from the blowing cold wind. Often he would look down into the deep canyon as if looking for anyone who might be tracking his movement. Little Jimbo was acting like this was an ordinary ride.

Eric often laughed witnessing Little Jimbo’s behavior and Scott’s behavior who was ten feet in front of Little Jimbo. It was a contrast in styles. Eric was also enjoying the comfortable feeling he was experiencing from Amanda’s tight hug with her free right arm. She was holding his upper torso so tight he was sure he would have a bruise on his chest tomorrow.

Chapter Nine

Tunnel Camping

Their progress on the dangerous ledge was steady. After thirty minutes the scouts and their new guests reached their target objective, the narrow passage to the hidden opening.

Once inside opening the terrain was just as the old man described. There was a rectangular area approximately twenty by twenty feet with straight vertical walls that soared five hundred feet in height. The ceiling of the area was a small speck of blue sky. There were a few chair sized boulders lying at one side of the rock enclosed space and some smaller ones but the area was mostly clear. The five horses had plenty of room to rest and move around.

Eric quickly dismounted and helped Amanda off the horse. Once again he searched his saddle bag for his stethoscope. Amanda moved to compliment her new friend, Spooky the horse.

“He survived Zak!” she exclaimed happily.

“He sure did! It surprised the hell out of me. He’s a mountain horse now.  Eric, get on the ground and get me a read. Little Jimbo, get in place to observe! Scott, you get over by Little Jimbo and wait! Amanda, you get all the reins to the horses in your hands and keep them against that far wall and out of sight! I think we are about to have company! I was getting worried that the Hussein Guards might catch us in a vulnerable position on the trail! We need to get ready!” ordered Zak while jumping off his horse.

Amanda gathered the reins and moved the five horses as close to the opposite wall to the entrance as she possibly could.

“Zak, can I use your bucket to water the horses for now?” she asked.

“Sure. That’s a good idea. Just make sure you hold those reins and try to keep them calm if there is any gunfire. Eric, give me a read.”

Eric was on his hands and knees at the entrance to the small enclave with the head of the stethoscope pressed to the granite floor.

“Holy shit! They are coming through the passage and they are coming fast! Too fast! They are traveling at a full gallop!”

“How long?” asked Zak.

“I would guess ten minutes away at the most. There are a lot of hoof beats and they are pounding the ground. In ten minutes it is going to be interesting.”

“Scott, you can peer through this horizontal opening along with Little Jimbo. There is room for you too Eric. Get your rifles ready to use,” ordered Zak.

“What were those boxes I saw you attach to the wall?” asked Scott.

“Those three boxes were remote detonation devices. If those idiots follow us this time I am prepared to blow them off the trail.”

He held up a small black box that was equipped with an antennae and a red button on the side. It was similar to the detonation device Little Jimbo used to block the usual trail.

“We will be able to hear them before we see them. It sounds like a stampede coming down the Passageway of Faith using my stethoscope,” said Eric.

“Can I watch?” pleaded Amanda.

“You won’t like what you see lady, knowing you,” answered Zak.

“Please!” she pleaded.

Zak quickly strode over to the young woman and lifted a relatively heavy small boulder placing the rock on a larger one. He took the reins and tied them around the temporary hitching post.

“I ain’t worried about the four mountain horses just Spooky getting spooked if there is any gunfire. I am hoping we will get lucky and there won’t be a gunfight.”

The blonde haired woman moved quickly and squeezed in between Scott and Eric at the crack in the rocks. She found she had a clear view of the exit to the dark passage exit on the Nightmare Trail.

Seven minutes passed when the fleeing group could hear the sound of horses running at full gallop echoing across the five hundred yard expanse of open air separating them from the exit.

“Fools! They are running to daylight! This is gonna’ get ugly, real ugly! Don’t you dare scream because of what you see and give our position away!” ordered Eric.

“I promise I won’t scream,” whispered Amanda.

“I was talking to Scott,” answered the Cajun with a grin.

Scott looked at the Cajun with a smirk on his face and then turned to watch the exit of the Passageway of Faith.

The thunderous sound of horses running in an enclosed area grew louder.

One minute later the lead riders of the Hussein Guard shot out of the opening on their horses. The horses tried to stop briefly rearing up on their hind legs but the relief horses which had no riders plowed into the group.  The first Hussein Guards and their horses plunged over the edge of the ledge tumbling like cartwheels in the air taking a two thousand foot fall.

Eric wasn’t sure but he thought there were four riders along with their mounts in the first few critical moments. He lost count as more horses with no riders reared up on their hind legs attempting to stop but their momentum and collisions with the remaining herd from the rear pushed them over the edge of the ledge. Eric wasn’t sure but he guessed at least seven to eight more animals plunged to their death. The sound of men screaming and horses braying on the way to the ground echoed in the cold air. Finally the carnage stopped.

“Holy shit!” said Scott softly.

It was an uncomfortable and tragic scene to witness.

“Stupid assholes! You don’t ride like that in these mountains unless you have too. What a waste of horse flesh,” added Little Jimbo.

The old man was standing behind the four. He had not bothered to view what had happened and was calmly smoking a cigarette while sitting on a boulder but he could hear the falling men’s screams clearly and the horses braying as they fell. He had seen it before.

“How many are left Jimbo?” asked Zak.

“I see three guards on their mounts and three horses. There might be another guard in the passage that I can’t see and a couple of more horses. I am sure they are freaked out after what just happened.”

“Well, let’s wait and see what they do for now,” said Zak.

“Damn! I was hoping to pick up a few of those fine animals. It looks like the ones that didn’t go over the edge are the pack horses. I think all the relief horses went over the ledge,” said Little Jimbo.

“That makes sense. The pack horses would be the ones bringing up the rear. So what is going on?”

There was silence for a long minute.

“Two of the guards are crawling on their bellies to peer over the edge to the canyon floor,” answered Eric.

“They are crawling…on their bellies? I don’t think they will be traveling the Nightmare Trail if they are doing that,” said Zak.

“Me either,” added Little Jimbo.

“It looks like they are getting something out of a bag on one of their pack horses. It looks like a radio transmitter,” said Eric.

“Do you two boys have your silencers for your rifles with you?” asked Zak.

“We always carry those with us,” answered Eric.

“Get them ready to use right now!”

The two men hustled over to their horses to retrieve their AK47s and to fasten their silencers.

“What are we doing?” asked Scott.

“We are getting ready to kill the remaining Hussein Guards who were sent to kill us. They are going to set up a radio to get in contact with their base which is in Las Vegas. Ignoring the fact that the idiots are on the wrong side of this big granite mountain they are in a narrow and crooked passage. Their radio won’t work properly. So they will get back on their mounts and race through the passage to use the radio again which will work on the other side of the mountain. They are attempting to call in helicopter support to retrieve the bodies on the floor of the canyon. You can bet they have GPS transponders on their equipment and their bodies. If the guards get to the other side of the mountain and if they call in the helicopters, that action will give us two choices. Either stay here and hide for the night and hope we don’t get trapped or kill them now to buy us some time to travel down the Nightmare Trail. Personally, I don’t feel like galloping down the Nightmare Trail and I sure don’t want to get trapped on this mountain by any helicopters.”

Eric and Little Jimbo returned with their assault rifles. Attached to each was a scope and silencer.

“That’s a fairly long shot,” said Scott.

“Not for these rifles,” answered Little Jimbo.

“I can see them. There are four men and they are moving the radio closer to the edge of the ledge. They are crawling on their hands and knees to move about,” said Eric.

“Then what are you waiting for. Kill them,” ordered Zak.

Four quick shots rang out. Then a fifth was fired by Little Jimbo.

Little Jimbo and Eric continued to peer through their scopes.

“No one is moving,” said Little Jimbo.

“What was the fifth shot for if there were four men?” asked Amanda.

“The radio,” answered the old man.

“All right, let’s pack up and get going. We still have some dangerous traveling to accomplish today.”

“Should I ride with Eric?” asked Amanda.

“Yes,” answered Zak.

“What about the Hussein Guard’s surviving horses?”

“Here we go again. Is that all you do woman? Ask difficult questions all day long?”

“Are we going to leave them out here to die? That might be a real smelly ride the next time we use the passage! Can I try something before we go?”

“Okay, I will play along. What do you have in mind?”

Amanda walked over to Spooky and grabbed his reins. Then she led him to the opening of the rest area. Zak and his two scouts were watching the young woman intently.

When she appeared at the opening to their hiding spot the horses on the other side of the open canyon turned their heads and looked in her and Spooky’s direction. Amanda started to click her tongue loudly and Spooky whinnied loudly as if attempting to communicate. The Hussein Guard’s horses turned their ears in the direction of where Amanda and her horse were standing and milled about the exit of the passage for a minute or two.

Little Jimbo started laughing.

“I think they are having an impromptu meeting on what to do next! Don’t forget, those are government horses.”

Amanda continued to click her tongue and the horse standing beside her continued to make the sounds a horse usually does, as if calling his friends. Suddenly, the lead horse started to move along the dangerous trail by himself. Then another horse followed and then another. After two minutes all the horses were walking on the trail to Amanda.

“Well I’ll be damned! Can you believe that!” exclaimed Eric.

“I have never seen anything like that! We better get ready to move! I think they will follow Spooky wherever he leads them,” added Little Jimbo.

The men mounted their rides and all were laughing, even Zak.

Zak waited until the newly acquired horses were fifty yards away and then moved out on the Nightmare Trail. Scott and Little Jimbo followed. When Eric pulled alongside Amanda he offered his hand and she reached up easily sliding into the seat wrapping both arms around him this time.

They pulled out on the Nightmare Trail and Spooky fell in line followed by the surviving horses. This time Amanda wasn’t holding his reins. The group of freedom fighters and their new herd traversed the remainder of the Nightmare Trail without further incident. The nightmare was finally over after two more hours of cautious travel.   The group followed Zak who turned onto a branch mountain trail that was downhill at the end of the Nightmare Trail.

After a thirty minute jaunt the riders emerged on a weed covered asphalt road. It looked like the road had been abandoned for years.

“Is this a highway of some sort?” asked Amanda, who was now riding Spooky. She had ridden the stallion since the second rest stop on the Nightmare Trail. The old man Zak had determined that the horse was no longer fearful of great heights and allowed her to ride the animal. The surviving Hussein Guard horses and the pack horses had patiently waited on the Nightmare Trail when Eric and Amanda steered the big white animal into the second rest area for Amanda to transfer to the horse. The big white stallion had done his job.

“It used to be a highly used two lane road many years ago, mostly by the old government before things went haywire. You will learn. There hasn’t been anybody on this road for the last ten years except us. On down the road around ten miles there is a massive landslide blocking access,” answered Zak.

“Was that another miscalculation by Little Jimbo?” asked Scott.

“Naw, Doc did that explosion and he figured it out perfectly. Well, actually him and Ringo. Ringo climbed up the mountain to place the charges where Doc told him to place them. It was a massive landslide and it would take weeks to clear the damn road but it didn’t bother us. We use horses and carts up here in these rugged mountains and sometimes helicopters.”

“You guys have helicopters?”

“Naw, when we need a helicopter we steal one. Once we are through with it we blow it up. The desert on the other side of the mountain where the Nightmare Trail runs is full of charred helicopters. You can’t travel one mile in the direction of Las Vegas without running across one.”

“What did you guys do with the crews of the helicopters?”

“Damn, you ask a hell of a lot of questions woman! We blew them up with the helicopters!”

“I see.”

Zak looked around at the late afternoon Nevada sky. The air was very chilly.

“It looks like it might rain or snow tonight Little Jimbo. How far up the road is the tunnel? I don’t remember.”

“Well, there’s that big ass Juniper tree leaning out over the road Zak. The tunnel is one mile ahead. It’s a good thing because I think we are about to get wet from either rain or snow. It is getting colder up here by the minute.”

“Actually the tunnel is a mile and a quarter ahead,” said Zak.

“Why do you do that?” asked Amanda with a smirk on her face.

“Why do I do what?

“Ask a question and when it is not exactly correct you correct whoever answered your question.”

“I don’t remember the question,” answered the old man as he spurred his horse to break into a trot.

“Ohh…he makes me so mad!”

Eric, who was riding alongside Amanda, laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she steamed.

“You are. We keep telling you the old man does shit like that. All of the boys ignore him except for Doc. Sometimes old Doc really cusses him out. What is funny and what the old man ain’t figured out is for the last five or six years we always give him a wrong or close answer just to hear him give the right one. It keeps his mind sharp.”

“That is crazy! I’m beginning to think that all of you might be a little crazy!”

“That may be. You better pick up your pace and stay up with the old man or you might get wet for the night and you can bet it is gonna’ get cold tonight,” he said as he spurred his horse making the animal trot faster.

Amanda turned around in her saddle looking at the remaining herd of horses that was still following Spooky.

“If I move faster are you guys gonna’ follow?”

She spurred Spooky and the horse picked up his pace. After ten seconds she turned and saw that the animals were still at a walking pace. She waited for them to catch up to her position and continued on the weed covered asphalt road. She looked ahead and didn’t see any of her compatriots.

Ten minutes later it started to rain hard. It was a cold rain. She continued to lead the herd up the asphalt road for the next twenty minutes until finally she saw a large tunnel up ahead. She was shivering from the cold rain and she was soaking wet. She felt relieved that she could see a campfire already burning in the large tunnel.

It took her another ten minutes to reach the tunnel. The men were standing around the campfire watching her and she passed by them without saying a word leading her herd of horses farther into the tunnel.

Once she was forty yards away from the fire she jumped off Spooky and walked to where the men were standing.

She was angry and shivering from the cold. The campfire felt good.

“Thanks for all the help guys,” was the first thing she said holding her palms to the warm fire.

“I tried to tell you to follow me but you wouldn’t listen,” said Eric.

“The only thing I think you are damn good at is catching a cold young lady. Why didn’t you follow Eric? Couldn’t you smell the air and tell it was about to rain? I think you were informed that a nice dry tunnel was up the road,” said Zak.

“I started up the trail and the horses stopped following Spooky!”

All the men laughed except Scott.

“What is so funny?” asked Scott.

“She is. She said she had been around horses but she hasn’t been around them that much, I can tell you that. Those damn critters are manipulative animals unless you are on top one of them. They just tested her. You should have followed Eric and you wouldn’t have got soaked. Where are those animals gonna’ go out in the middle of nowhere? Didn’t you see them follow your horse on the Nightmare Trail? Next time leave them where they are. You will see they will be moseying in here to this shelter all wet in a half hour or so. Or they can stay out there all night and get soaked standing in the rain and we could go get them in the morning. You need to get your head on straight woman. Out here being stupid could get you killed like getting a bad ass cold with no one to look after you.”

“Lighten up! This is her first ride in a long time! Here, put this heavy coat on and here is a towel to dry your hair. I will take care of your herd of horses,” said the Cajun.

Amanda put on the heavy coat and it felt good. She began to dry her soaked hair and stand a little closer to the fire. Eric left for the horses and herded them to the other end of the long tunnel near the opening. Soon he had another campfire burning to help dry off the animals. The horses were standing near his fire.

“Eric seems to be a good man,” said Scott.

The old man sighed and went to his horse. He pulled out two dry towels.

“Here. Go down to the end of the tunnel and help Eric. The towel will dry off at least some of the faces of the horses.”

Scott took the towels and headed towards the end of the long tunnel to help the Cajun.

“Little Jimbo, get some dry clothes for Amanda so she can change out of those wet clothes. We have extra pants, shirts and socks for her to use. They might be a little baggy on her but at least they will be dry and warm. I will show her where the bath…” ordered Zak.

Little Jimbo sprang to his feet while Amanda interrupted Zak once again.

“Forget that order Jimbo! You don’t need to show me anything! Just give me the damn clothes and I will change right here by this warm fire!”

Zak sat on a small boulder next to the fire drinking a cup of coffee across from where Amanda was sitting. Because she was cold and wet she was sitting a lot closer to the large campfire than Zak was.

Little Jimbo returned with a stack of clothes in his hands and gave them to the young good looking woman. As Little Jimbo walked around the fire to sit on a boulder next to Zak and enjoy a cup of coffee the woman stood up and began removing her soaked long sleeved FEMA outfit using a zipper that ran on the front of garment from her neck to her crotch.

Zak and Little Jimbo instantly jumped to their feet with coffee cups in hand and turned their backs. At that precise moment Eric and Scott returned from their chore of drying off the newly acquired horses.

As Eric dismounted his horse he saw Amanda’s black FEMA suit drop to the ground around her ankles. She was standing next to the campfire wearing only her bra and panties. Eric quickly turned his body with his back facing the young woman standing next to Zak and Little Jimbo.

Scott dismounted his horse and walked over to the rock where Zak was once sitting, picking up a notebook computer that was on a boulder next to where he sat. He casually picked up a tin cup and filled it with coffee. He began to look over the thin computer and sip on his coffee while Amanda dried off her naked body with a dry towel and began to put on a pair of dry socks.

“Uh, what do you think you are doing Scott?” exclaimed Zak while his back was to the two newly released FEMA inmates.

“I was about to ask you three the same thing. What are you guys doing, taking a traditional group pee while on a camping trip?”

Amanda laughed.

“I think they are attempting to be gentlemen.”

“Hey Scott! Don’t you know that Amanda is getting dressed?” yelled Little Jimbo.

“So?”

“Don’t you think she deserves some privacy?”

“What do you guys want me to do, come over there and stand beside you three?”

“Yes!” exclaimed all three at one time.

“Good grief, this is ridiculous!”

Scott rose from his boulder and moved to stand next to Eric with his back to Amanda with his coffee cup in hand. He was laughing.

“You guys are something else!”

“Why is that? Hasn’t anyone ever taught you any manners?” asked Zak in his gruff southern drawl.

Meanwhile, Amanda was giggling behind them while getting dressed by the campfire.

“I can tell you guys have never been in a FEMA camp before. Every night men and women use a huge community shower room to get clean. We were separated from the women by a stout chain link fence. That was the way it was since I was thrown into the FEMA camp. It became routine. Nudity is no big thing in a FEMA camp. Getting clean was.”

Zak, Little Jimbo and Eric’s jaws dropped.

“Damn!” said Little Jimbo.

“Okay boys, you can come back and sit beside the warm campfire now. I am fully dressed.”

The four men returned to the campfire sitting on boulders strewn around the burning flames.

“That was so…cute. Thank you for being so polite guys.”

“Is there a way I can hang my wet clothes on a stick so they can dry?” she asked holding up her bra.

Eric and Little Jimbo looked at Zak and begin to squirm uncomfortably.

“There is a bathroom over on that wall over there that has heat. You put them on one the hooks in the stalls and your …uh, clothes should be dry in the morning.”.

Zak’s statement surprised Amanda and Scott.

“We have a bathroom?” asked the young woman.

“We sure do!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to tell you but you cut me off,” replied the old man.

“It has running water, hot water, several stalls and sinks. It also has heat! Do you want me to show you?” asked Little Jimbo.

Amanda glared at Zak.

“It has a shower?”

“There are four or five shower stalls. And soap with fluffy dry towels. Would you like to take a shower?”

“It would be nice! Men!” she huffed as she stood on her feet.

Little Jimbo stood up and crooked his finger for Amanda to follow him. She gathered her wet clothes and left in a huff.

“Damn, that woman is hard headed,” said Zak.

Eric and Scott laughed.

“Is this for real? Is there really a bathroom in this tunnel?” asked Scott.

“Yes there is. There are a lot of things in this tunnel big man. This is our tunnel. I think it is going to be a real cold night Zak. Should we secure the tunnel to trap the warm air?” asked Eric.

“I think that would be the thing to do Cajun. You know those horses are still wet no matter how much effort is used to dry them or how many blankets you threw over their backs. Until Todd gets the chance to check them we don’t need any sick horses. Seal up the tunnel for tonight. It is getting cold and it’s starting to snow,” said Zak.

“Come on big man. I will show you what needs to be done if you are ever to be here again. You never know. You may become a scout for Free America one of these days,” said Eric.

As Scott rose from his boulder he could see a door open on the opposite side of the tunnel where Amanda and Little Jimbo were standing. He saw in the dim firelight Little Jimbo reach into the door way and soon, there was bright light emanating out into the tunnel. He watched as Amanda walked into the room and slammed the door shut. There was a bathroom, a bathroom with electric power, in the abandoned tunnel.

Scott followed Eric to the opposite wall where a switch box was mounted into the wall six feet off the roadway. Eric opened the metal door and produced a small flashlight in his hand.

“If you close off the tunnel with these two switches you need to throw these two switches to initiate the ventilation fans at the apex of the tunnel. You don’t want to die from carbon monoxide poisoning from the campfires.”

The Cajun threw the top two switches and Scott could faintly hear a hum emanating from the top of the tunnel.

“There are four big vents in the tunnel. There is one directly above each campfire. You must remember to do this if you are the one asked to do it.  If you don’t some people will die and if someone else does this you go over and make sure it is right. That is the way the scouts operate.”

“You guys have done this before haven’t you?”

“Speaking for myself I have done it at least a hundred times. When any of Free America’s scouts stop here we always wait for a day or two to see if we have been followed. These two switches close off the tunnel. The doors are well camouflaged on the outer side and are heavy duty reinforced steel. Here are the two switches,” said Eric.

He threw both switches and the door nearest to the end of the tunnel started to move out of the side of the rock wall tunnel. It closed within twenty seconds with a gentle click.

“It will help us stay warm tonight. At least we won’t freeze tonight and neither will our mounts.”

“Did you guys construct this place? I am impressed!” exclaimed Scott.

“Naw, the federal government built this place back in the fifties or sixties I think. Zak found it and we took it over. You will have to ask him.”

The two men returned to the campfire where Little Jimbo and Zak were patiently waiting. Over the fire was a skillet that was loaded with bacon and what looked like hamburger meat. On several sticks were some hot dogs thrust above the flames.

“Wow! You guys seem to eat well!” said Scott.

“We try to! We had this food on some dry ice waiting to cook it up when we got close to home. We even have a can of Pringles for the hot dogs and burgers. I also have mustard and ketchup. There is nothing better that good eating on a cold ass night around a campfire in the Nevada Sierras and feeling safe,” said Little Jimbo.

“Amen to that!” said Zak raising his cup of coffee and taking a sip.

At that moment Amanda opened the door to the bathroom and slammed it shut.

“Why do women always slam that door shut?” asked Zak.

The gorgeous blonde walked over to the campfire with a white towel wrapped around her blonde hair and sat down on a boulder.

“What a pleasant surprise! The bathroom was very clean with loads of hot water and plenty of bars of soap! It is unbelievable to find something like that out in the middle of nowhere! Did your men build that bathroom Zak?”

“No, we found it eight of nine years ago Amanda.”

“Well, it is certainly wonderful! What happened to the tunnel?” she said looking at the massive door.

“We sealed it up for the night to keep out any predators and to get warm and no we didn’t construct that either. We found that too.”

“So who built it?”

“The same people who built FEMA camp 37 except they built this tunnel many years before they decided to put people in slave camps. Actually it was built a few years before they started to build the FEMA camps on the sly. That was twenty years ago.”

“Whatever is cooking sure smells good! I am starving!” she said.

“What would you like to eat tonight Amanda? A hamburger or a hot dog?” asked Little Jimbo.

“Could I have one of each?”

“Sure. We have plenty. Eat up.”

Little Jimbo made Amanda one of each on a metal pie plate and served the food along with Pringles chips. The group of men and one woman ate and told tales about their lives before settling in for the night in sleeping bags and blankets around the campfire. A schedule was roughly drawn up between the men to keep the campfire at each end of the tunnel fired up through out the night. Amanda had never slept better.

* * * * *

Chapter Ten

I Want to Be a Scout

Amanda was awakened by sounds of conversation. She opened her blue eyes to see the campfire she had fell asleep beside last night was still burning and that the air was still cool but not freezing cold. She heard a young voice that she didn’t recognize and she sat upright quickly. She turned in the sleeping bag that Little Jimbo had loaned her for the night and saw a young boy no more than fourteen years of age standing behind her with a large shovel in his hand and a trash can on wheels.

“Good morning ma’am. I hope you slept well.  Zak asked me to brush down your white horse this morning. May I do that?”

Amanda slowly moved out of her sleeping bag and stood up. She looked around to see several young men bustling about the still closed tunnel. She was very confused.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Johnny. I am the head of the stable boys at the secondary camp. Your name is Amanda, right? That is what Uncle Zak told me. He told me to come over here and ask you if it was okay to brush down Spooky before we put him in the stable. That is one fine horse you ride ma’am. I have never seen such a large and healthy stallion like him.”

Amanda moved closer to the teenager and extended her hand. He was a red headed boy with freckles all over his face and large lips. He also had an infectious grin.

“Hi Johnny. I am Amanda. If you don’t mind I would appreciate you brushing down Spooky and yes, he is a big horse. So Zak is your uncle?”

“Well, yes and no. I was an orphan until he adopted me six years ago when he was in Las Vegas.”

“Oh. I see. He many nephews does Uncle Zak have?”

“I have fifteen brothers and sisters. Uncle Zak makes sure every one of us goes to school everyday and learn the teachings in the Bible. Sometimes he takes us all riding and during good weather we go camping every two weeks with my other uncles and Zak sometimes.”

“May I ask who your other uncles are?”

“Yes ma’am! That would be Uncle Eric, Uncle Ringo, I really like him, and both of my Uncle Jimbos!”

“There is no Uncle Georgia Boy?”

“Do you know Georgia Boy? He is my adopted father! I love Georgia Boy!” exclaimed the young boy.

The young boy shook her hand vigorously.

“When I get through I will show you where your horse is in the stable but right now I need to help the guys clean up the horse poop!”

Then he took off pulling his trash can on wheels to the opposite end of the tunnel.

Amanda looked around and the only person she saw was the old man sitting on a boulder sipping on a cup of coffee and looking at his notebook computer.

“Zak! What is going on? What time is it? Who was the young boy?”

“Questions, questions, question. You always have a lot of questions. I heard what he said to you so you should know! What do you think young Johnny was doing, making it all up?  It is almost seven in the morning and everyone is performing their duties. The young boy told you his name and who loved him.”

“I heard what he said! He called you Uncle Zak!”

“I know. He ain’t related to me. Free America inherited him six years ago by default. FEMA was going to send him to the gas ovens because they deemed he wasn’t intelligent enough to live. He has turned out to be the best damn judge of horse flesh I have ever seen in my life except for Little Jimbo. Doc says he is one of those savants or something like that. Anyway, he has a way with horses and he can turn a stubborn trail horse into a mountain horse in an hour or two. He has been the head stable man at this camp for the last three years and he works hard every day with the horses.  Me and Doc sort of adopted him when he first came here. Later on Johnny and Georgia Boy bonded. You know, Georgia Boy taught him to read, write and all those other good things. They both are good boys.”

Amanda looked around in the tunnel and could see many new people. She also could see Scott, Eric and Little Jimbo lugging saddles and bundles from the government pack houses along with many new men into a large opening at the far end of the tunnel that had appeared on the opposite tunnel wall.

“Did you sleep well?” asked Zak while still eyeballing his computer screen.

“Yes I did! Can you take the time to tell me what is happening?”

“Yes sir, sir! Everyone woke up one hour ago except for you. We let you sleep because you were sleeping soundly after the stressful day yesterday and I will say it was one stressful day, the kind I don’t like. Little Jimbo has some sausages and biscuits there by the fire with some home made gravy for you to eat and the coffee is great this morning. Eat and I will give you a history lesson.”

“May I go to the bathroom first?”

“Sure. I ain’t going anywhere for the next half hour or so.”

Amanda left and returned ten minutes later. When she returned no one was in the tunnel except for Zak.

“Where did everyone go?”

“I imagine they are working in the stable with the horses and breaking down the bundles we acquired from the Hussein Guard. Things like oiling the saddles, feeding the horses, stuff like that. We take care of our animals. They are important parts to our operation up here in these mountains. Go ahead and eat. Take your time. Little Jimbo knows how to make some good gravy I will tell you that.”

Amanda picked up the pie pan and dug into the food. She was hungry and the biscuits and gravy were delicious.

“Yes, Little Jimbo does know how to make gravy and a good breakfast. He is a very nice man.”

“Yeah, I have been blessed. Both the Jimbos and Eric are like sons to me. It is hard to find boys like them in this world. Georgia Boy and Ringo are good boys too. There are a lot more that you haven’t met yet and quite a few that you will never meet.”

“Why is that?”

“That is because they have been killed by the government.”

Amanda paused while eating.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. They died doing what they wanted to do, trying to be free. That will probably happen to all us one of these days, getting killed by our government. They have been doing that for over a hundred years with things called wars.”

Amanda finished eating not saying another word for a long while. Zak continued to sit, drink his coffee and work on his notebook.

“I want to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead youngster.”

“How did you discover the Passageway of Faith and the Nightmare Trail?”

“I didn’t. Todd the veterinarian did.”

“Todd? How did that happen?”

“It is easy enough to explain. You saw him tag that young mountain lion yesterday right?”

“I sure did. He also tagged everything else that moved like the eagle and the desert salamanders.”

“Yes. Todd has been doing that for ten years. Eight years ago he came to me and told me that some wolves and a couple of mountain lions would disappear into a mountain for a few minutes and then reappear. This happened a lot. Then one day one of those red dots disappeared into the mountain and fifteen minutes later appeared on the other side. Todd watched on his computer as the mountain lion walked down the Nightmare Trail and took the off shoot trail we took to get here. So the Jimbos went with him to the entrance to the Passageway of Faith and discovered the Nightmare Trail. Todd didn’t want to drive his wagon down the Nightmare Trail so they turned around and took the long ways home. Crazy Todd tagged over one hundred rattlesnakes in the passageway that day. He about drove the Jimbos crazy handling the snakes and it took him all day. A month later me and Little Jimbo went back and traversed the Passageway of Faith and the Nightmare Trail the entire way. Big Jimbo refused to go with us because of the snakes and the heights. He is the only one who has shown some common sense around here. Todd was the one who told us to take a left once out of the Passageway and on the Nightmare Trail deducing that it was too narrow to turn around on a horse without possibly getting killed. He watched the mountain lion take a right and then come back so he assumed it was a dead end trail. Once we got to dead man’s curve we could see that he was right. It didn’t have those names then but I remember it well. That first trip was one scary ride. It still is.”

“That is an amazing story. So…what happens next?”

“We go to our secondary base,”

“Are we walking? I don’t see the horses!”

“You saw all the boys walking them into the stable didn’t you?”

“Well, I guess so. I saw them walking through that large opening in the wall of this tunnel. Wait a minute! What is this tunnel?”

“It is our tunnel lady. It you are through eating I will escort you to our secondary base,” said Zak standing up and offering his arm.

Amanda stood up and took the old man’s arm.

Walking to the middle of the tunnel the old man stopped in front of another brown metal door.

“We have arrived at our base young lady. Ladies go first. Go ahead and open the door. It’s not presently locked.”

Now Amanda was very confused. She reached for the door lever and pushed. Entering through the doorway she found herself in another world.

What lay before her was a vast open room of clean white and tan concrete floors chiseled out of the interior of the mountain which housed the tunnel. There were tall smooth walls on the perimeter of the huge room along with stainless steel stairways leading to upper floors. In this cavernous room were all types of screens, monitors and electronic gear resting on state of the art work stations. And there were people. There were a lot of people sitting and working at the work stations.

She turned to the old man and she let her temper once again show.

“Why in God’s name did we sleep out on the hard cold floor last night when just thirty feet away we had this? You just like to agitate me don’t you? Oh my God! The image on that large screen above the consoles!  Is that is our campfire from last night?”

“Yes ma’am it sure is! I guess I will have to ask around to find out if the guys turned their backs last night in this room when you were putting on your show by the campfire!”

Amanda put her hands to her face and began to blush. She noticed many of the young men sitting at their computer consoles were watching her intently with smiles on their faces.

“Oh…oh… you make me so mad sometimes!”

“So what do you want to do?”

“I want to check up on Spooky first!”

“Good girl! I thought that would be your answer. You seem to like that white stallion.”

“I do and he likes me.”

“Follow me. This is the way to the stable. Most of the guys are in there right now getting those new government horses settled in.”

Zak offered his arm again and surprisingly Amanda grabbed it. But this time she pinched it hard a few times. Zak ignored her.

As they made the one hundred foot walk to the door to the stables many of the men sitting at the computer consoles watched her walk with Zak. A few of them had big grins on their faces.

“Zak, a lot of those men seem to be watching me!” she exclaimed.

“I imagine you are a pretty popular girl around here. You should have no trouble getting a date in this base to go horseback riding.”

Amanda fluttered her eyes and stuck out her tongue at the leering men sitting at their computer consoles.

“I wouldn’t do that young lady. You might see a replay on that big screen of last night’s performance. Just keep moving and keep smiling at everyone.”

Standing in front of a white door once again Zak played the part of the perfect gentleman.

“Ladies go first.”

Amanda opened the door and once again she was taken aback by what she saw.

On the other side of this door was a vast stable area that was full of horses and men along with young boys and a few young girls hard at work. Some of the young men were working on saddles in what appeared to be a clean livery that had many modern machines. Some of the young men were shoeing horses and others were working on leather goods. The large livery was bustling with activity.

On two of the longer walls were easily a hundred horse stalls and above the stalls were haylofts stacked high with fresh hay. There was feeding troughs and water to every stall and racks of brushes hanging on the wall. There were fifty of more people, including some young ladies, working on the horses. At the far end of the large stable was an indoor riding ring that was in use.

Amanda felt a strange excitement build in her body. The stables reminded of her of her young years before being placed in FEMA camp 37,

“Where is Spooky?”

“Eric! Where are you?” yelled Zak.

Nobody seemed to pay any attention to Zak. It was soon clear to Amanda that Zak had yelled before inside the stable.

“I’m over here!”

Amanda turned to see the Cajun standing at a far stall. She broke from Zak’s arm and jogged over to where Eric was standing where she embraced the Cajun. Zak casually strolled to the stall.

Standing in the stall behind Eric was Spooky eating some fresh oats.

“He let me brush him down but he kept turning his head towards the main door every time it was opened being a bad boy. I think he was looking for you.”

Amanda went to Spooky’s head and petted him, speaking to him softly. The horse started to swish his tail back and forth as if he was listening.

“I think that horse might be difficult to ride for any of our other scouts. I guess we will take him to the riding ring later today and let Johnny break him in,” said Eric.

“No! This is my horse! Johnny does not need to break him in!”

“Now listen here woman! This ain’t a damn country club! These horses are working horses. They are here to be used by the scouts to go out and fight this war,” said Zak.

Amanda held Spooky’s halter tighter.

“Then I want to be a scout,” she said with conviction in her voice.

“What?” exclaimed both Zak and Eric.

“I want to be a scout,” she reiterated.

“You aren’t a scout Amanda. Sure you can shoot a gun, we’ve seen that and you appear to ride a horse well but you don’t know how to operate a computer and more importantly you have never shot anyone. The wilderness is one rough place,” said Zak.

“I know how to make good coffee. Remember? Doc taught me how.”

“There’s a lot more to being a scout then making a good cup of coffee lady.”

“Then teach me! Teach me how to shoot somebody! I want to be a scout and I will learn how. All I want is a chance!”

“She did real well in the Passageway of Faith and the Nightmare Trail boss. That ride would send a normal person scurrying back to the casinos in Las Vegas,” said Eric.

Zak glared at the young woman for a long moment. Finally he threw up his hands.

“Swell. She is your apprentice Cajun. You teach her. I have other things to do!”

Zak turned and walked the length of the stable to the riding ring where Little Jimbo was standing watching young Johnny work out a horse.

“He doesn’t seem too happy about that does he?”

“No he doesn’t. We have two women who are scouts. They are the only female scouts we have. They both are out in the field to the north checking on things. They work as a team which seems to work well and they are as tough as nails. You don’t know how it is out in the wilderness because you have been in that FEMA camp all these years. There are a lot of evil people out there hiding in the badlands since the riots happened ten years ago and they will do you harm, especially a good looking woman like you.”

“Please teach me how to be tough. Please.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to work at the secondary base or the main base? There you will have your own room, a comfortable bed to sleep in every night, friends you will see every day, warmth and plenty of food.”

“Ugh! It sounds like a FEMA camp. I like this feeling that I have had the past two days and I never want to let go of it. Will you help me keep it?”

“If you want to work hard every day and I mean every day me, Big Jimbo and Little Jimbo will help you. The first thing you need to do is get in the computer lab and learn how to operate a notebook. It is invaluable out in the field.”

“Okay, I want to get started today. Can I take Spooky out to ride somewhere at the end of the day?”

“Why sure! Follow me!”

He walked towards the riding ring where Zak and Little Jimbo were standing watching young Johnny working with one of the newly acquired government horses. When they got near the ring Eric took a left and opened what looked like an overhead garage door. The cool mountain air rushed into the paddock.

Before Amanda was a vast expanse of a grassy valley nestled between two mountain ranges that ran as far as the eye could see. There were a lot of trees and trails winding through the valley and mountains. Out in the snow covered valley were herds of deer, elk and horses foraging for food.

“This is what we call the Valley of Freedom. Is that enough riding space for you and Spooky?”

The young woman threw her arms around the Cajun and hugged him for a long moment. Then she suddenly composed herself and broke away.

“Show me to the computer lab please.”

The Cajun closed the garage door.

“Follow me.”

As they strode by the riding ring Zak and Little Jimbo watched silently as the young woman and the Cajun entered the main room of the secondary base and headed for the computer lab.

* * * * *

Chapter Eleven

Calamity Jane and the Black Widow

Three months had passed since Amanda and Scott acquired their freedom. Both of the former FEMA inmates had decided to join the scouts of Free America. Scott was thrown into the general training that was provided by Free America for prospective candidates to join the field forces. Amanda had benefited from one on one training from the Cajun along with Little Jimbo. For some unknown reason the old man wanted the young woman to be trained in this manner which was highly unusual at Free America. Eric and Little Jimbo seemed to be enjoying the time they spent with Amanda.

The first two weeks of scout training were dedicated to learning the nuances of using a wireless notebook out in the wilderness which relayed on stolen government satellite signals. Both Amanda and Scott proved to be fast learners on the computer and the geeks, as the old man called them, were knowledgeable teachers. Amanda had even learned how to use the keyboard which was seldom used by scouts. Normally information was obtained by using the touch screen on the portable devices with as little typing as possible.

The next step in their training was weapons training. This lasted two intense and demanding weeks. At the end of this course Scott and Amanda could recognize and use every weapon that could be found off deceased Homeland Security and FEMA agents out in the wilderness. Now both of them knew what and where the safety was on any gun and more importantly, they both knew how to use them. They both were amazed to find that they had more than two hundred classmates for this intense training. Even the geeks were required to take weapons training. The Free America scout force and the movement itself were growing with each passing day.

The final step in their training was out in the field, learning the wilderness and the brutal desert mountain terrain of rugged Nevada. This training was extremely demanding as it occurred during the winter. Both Amanda and Scott learned how to survive when the temperature was below zero degrees which occurred almost every winter night in the Sierras. Both learned how to hunt for food and prepare the kill to eat when hundreds of miles from anywhere. Often they trained in groups, sometimes with a partner and on a few occasions flying solo. They learned the many trails, passes and shortcuts in central, eastern and northern Nevada, staying in the safe confines of the mountains or using the thousands of desert gorges and ravines. Some mountain ranges had trees and others did not. They learned where to find water when it seemed there was no water. They learned how to listen and learn from the desert and the mountains. They soon found out that a scout never knew it all, that operating in the rugged and dangerous terrain was an ongoing educational process but at least they had a foundation to survive and in some cases, like Little Jimbo and Eric, to thrive.  On many occasions Amanda would be accompanied by Little Jimbo or either Eric. She was growing close to both men with each passing day.

It took Doc, Georgia Boy, Ringo and Big Jimbo three days to arrive at the tunnel after Amanda first gained her freedom and traversed the Nightmare Trail. During her training she would frequently see her new found friends during her three months of training and often they would ride with her on her horse in the Valley of Freedom sharing tales of some of their wild rides that had occurred over the past six years. She vastly enjoyed those moments. On many occasions Scott would accompany her to share the tales of the experienced scouts. Often an impromptu afternoon ride would turn into an overnight camp out.

She would see Zak every now and then. On many occasions he was gone for days. He always stopped to speak with her to find out how she was getting along whenever he saw her. She soon discovered that he was the head of the scout forces and was always busy. Later she found out that he was the commander of not only the secondary base but also the main base which was located two hundred miles away to the west. During her training he was always to be found at the secondary base in the rugged Nevada mountain ranges in the east part of the state. She figured from the way he spoke that he loved the mountains, horse riding and the trails. He always would speak in solemn tones about how Nevada was now like it used to be in the west one hundred and fifty years ago. The only difference now was technology and deadlier weapons.

During her stay she met what the old man often referred to as the geek squad. These were former FEMA inmates who possessed advanced computer skills. She learned that not only was Free America fighting for freedom out in the field, they were also waging war in cyber space. She learned that Free America had powerful, advanced computer systems along with sophisticated communication devices and they were using these weapons twenty four hours a day, seven days a week to wage war on the federal government. In the main computer room there was always twenty to thirty men every hour working at computer stations using and seeking information. To her, the members of the geek squad always seemed intense and stressed out. Whenever she spoke with a geek, she would always attempt to make their day better by being pleasant and friendly.

She had learned that information was power.

At the end of her three months of training she and Scott were summoned to Zak’s ready room at the secondary base. This was the first time she had seen the interior of this room. She thought at the time it would be the first time of many. Also in the room were the Jimbos, Eric and Georgia Boy. Zak was sitting at a large round table with his boots resting on the surface smoking a cigarette and reclining in a big leather chair.

“Sit down,” he motioned to his scouts.

The one woman and five men sat down at the round table.

“I have some good news and some bad news. What do you want to hear first Amanda?”

The young woman was surprised that Zak had singled her out.

“Why are you asking me?”

Zak laughed.

“I was just testing you to see if you were still full of piss and vinegar. You are. You and Scott have received high marks concerning your training from my experienced scouts. They say you are ready to ride. I think they are right.”

“Okay, then give me the bad news first,” replied Amanda playing the role of an assertive scout.

“All righty,” said the old man removing his feet from the round table.

“Spit it out!” demanded the gorgeous blonde woman.

“My, you haven’t changed a bit since I met you Miss Priss. The Homeland Security people have decided to rebuild FEMA camp 37 after we burned it down. They are going to make it bigger, stronger and they have chosen to station a garrison of the Hussein Guard in a newly built compound nearby the camp. This dictator is certainly very stubborn.”

“So? How does that affect us?”

“Well, in a year or two we are going to burn it down again so all of you need to start thinking about that and remember what we did before. It should work again but it will take the government a while to get the FEMA camp up and running. In the meantime I have a large convoy of semi trailers moving up the Great Basin Highway that we are going to hijack in two days. According to my geeks, this convoy is going to be heavily protected by a Homeland Security escort. It is dropping off supplies to the FEMA installation in Missoula, Montana. The convoy also contains a large amount of ammo, weapons, food and medical supplies and stuff like that. That convoy is ours.”

“How do you know that?” asked the persistent blonde.

“Yes! How do you know that?” asked Georgia Boy.

“How do I know that? I know that because the men driving the semi tractor trailers and trucks are our guys. They have let us know about this top secret convoy that is going to be moving through our territory. We know how many Homeland Security vehicles are escorting the convoy and all that stuff. The geek squad has done their job. Now it is time to do ours.”

“What’s so special about this convoy? We have hijacked a hundred convoys in the past coming up the Great Basin Highway,” said Eric.

“Well, Mister Cajun, one of those semi trailers has two hundred stinger missiles. I think that would be a nice addition to our armory. I am getting tired of worrying about Homeland Security helicopters in our mountains so these little missiles are going to make them think twice about chasing us. Plus there is two tons of C4 in the same trailer that Ringo would love to get his hands on. They have the crate marked with a Red Cross logo to deceive everyone. At least the geeks let us know which trailer not to fire on. That trailer is also marked with a Red Cross logo.”

The news excited the newer scouts at the table and caused frowns on some of the experienced ones.

“Yeah, it would be nice to pick off those choppers who chase us in the mountains. The government would think twice about tracking or attacking us if we had weapons like that,” said Georgia Boy.

“I thought you would like that son,” said Zak.

“Having weapons like the stingers would certainly be an asset. So what do you have?” asked Eric.

“This is Nevada, Cajun, and we have a stacked deck in our favor. The truck drivers are our guys.”

“Who is driving the semis?” asked Georgia Boy.

“Well, you have met all of them the past few years. The usual old crazies, former Teamsters who were forced to drive for the government or be thrown into a FEMA camp years ago. There is Humpy Carter, Winter Garden Smitty, Julius and Jolly,  Wayne Stanley, Norman Mizell, Red Jones and …let me think. Oh yeah, Squirrel and his brother Bobby. That is nine semi truck trailers ready for us to steal. The geeks have already set it up where our boys will not be hurt by our raid to drive another day for Homeland Security. I wish we had more patriots like them. All we have to do is kill all the Homeland Security dudes in the escort vehicles and let the Teamsters escape into the woods. There they will hook up with some of our scouts with horses to get back to Las Vegas. Our scouts will escort them back home and that should take a couple of days. We want Homeland Security to think that they walked the distance so they won’t be held culpable.”

The experienced scouts at the table looked at each other. They had been at this table before and they knew the teamster truck drivers well. They could be trusted but they were a bunch of crazy old men. Finally, Georgia Boy spoke.

“I know everyone of those boys! Are you sure about this operation? Wayne, Norman and Squirrel are three crazy mother fuckers! How in God’s name did those three get the clearance to transport high explosives?”

“Don’t’ ask me boy! The geek squad said we were good to go! Go ask Data if you have any questions after this meeting! In the meantime I would suggest you shut the fuck up! If you don’t want to be a part of this operation then let me know and I will assign someone else! Damn, Georgia Boy, you are getting to sound like Amanda!”

It was a tense moment. Amanda squirmed in her seat because of the tension in the air.

“So when is the operation supposed to be executed?” asked Eric.

“In forty eight hours. It should give you plenty of time to ride your horses to Highway Ninety Three and set up your ambush. The trucks will be arriving in the middle of the cold ass night,” answered Zak.

“Good Lord! You are expecting us to get to Highway Ninety Three in forty eight hours? That is a long ride from here!” exclaimed Georgia Boy.

“Quit your complaining you big crybaby! If you leave within the hour you should have plenty of time. I will send the information to your notebooks about the convoy. If you don’t want to lead this mission I will let some one else lead.  I love people who are hungry for retribution and want to get some serious payback.’

“So we are to take out a nine truck convoy with six scouts?” asked Georgia Boy.

“No, take out the damn escorts and our teamster buddies will drive the trucks close to the secondary base for us to pillage and plunder and yeah, that sounds about right concerning the number of scouts. Actually it sounds to me like two scouts too many but I wanted to get the new guys some experience. Don’t forget those crazy teamsters will get out of their trucks and fight along with you. I know they are armed.”

Georgia Boy grinned.

“I know. The Odom boys are flat out crazy.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Just to let you know there will be some of our boys nearby in the hills in case you get in trouble. You need to get going right now.”

The six scouts silently arose from their seats and exited Zak’s ready room Amanda followed the male scouts to the stable to prepare their rides.

“Georgia Boy, are all Zak’s plans like this one?”

“They are all pretty much like that. We call it Zak’s crazy wing it plans.”

“So you just go out, kill anything wearing a government logo or uniform and go from there?”

“That about sums it up. It has worked fairly well the past six years most of the time. Now that the civil war has started I imagine there will be less time for meticulous planning.”

“Good grief!”

“I know how you feel. I felt the same way you are feeling now coming from the Seals. The plan’s sometimes varies. The raid to burn down FEMA camp 37 was highly coordinated and took a lot of planning and timely execution. Other than that most operations are go out and kill or be killed. I like missions like that. They are quick, uncomplicated and to the point. The coordination and strategic planning has already taken place for this convoy raid. Those trucks are filled with stuff that was ordered by the geek squad under false pretenses using fake purchase orders with real government bank accounts. All of those Teamsters driving are on our side and have done it before because they hate FEMA and its practices just like us and they will fight along with us. In just about all cases in the past they managed to escape with their lives to find their way back to Las Vegas and the safety of union membership. This is a first good mission for you and Scott to go on. It should be a cakewalk but you never know. Things have gotten fucked up before.”

“If these same Teamsters have been attacked before and safely returned have we ever given any consideration to a trap?”

“That has happened before. That is what I just said. Things have gotten fucked up before.”

Once the six scouts arrived at the stable they found the crew had already prepared their rides.

“Johnny is pretty good with horses Scott and Amanda, but it is your responsibility to check your rigging and make sure things are right. You don’t need to find out that a belt hasn’t been properly locked while riding full tilt on a steep trail. Also check your saddle bags to make sure you have the right ammo for whatever gun you are carrying,” ordered Georgia Boy.

The six scouts performed their chores and mounted their rides. As they exited the stable compound and turned left Amanda saw that the tunnel doors had been retracted and now the way was clear.  Near the extinguished campfire by the entrance was the old man sitting on one of the boulders resting around a mass of black burned wood.

Georgia Boy, who was leading, stopped his horse.

“Oh boy! We have seen this behavior before haven’t we boys?”

“You bet! He had more bad news than FEMA camp 37 being rebuilt! Actually, I thought that was good news! It gives us something to do in the future!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

Eric and Big Jimbo laughed nervously. Amanda and Scott sat on their horses patiently waiting not knowing what the hell was going on.

“So what is up? You got something to say other than happy trails?” asked Georgia Boy.

Zak stood up slowly and flipped his still burning cigarette into the burnt out campfire.

“Yeah, I forgot one little detail during our meeting. Data just got through yelling at me about it and told me to get my butt out here to tell you scouts.”

Zak’s comment killed any laughter.

“Okay old man, let’s hear it,” said Georgia Boy while shaking his head.

“One of our Teamster fellows at the Las Vegas terminal managed to get a message to our geeks. The last truck in the convoy headed this way is loaded with Homeland Security horses and men wearing some fancy uniforms.”

“More Hussein Guard tough guys and they are on horses! It sounds like they are learning that motor bikes and all terrain vehicles are no good where we ride. It also sounds like they have gotten determined to track us down to kill us! Damn, we have never had something like that in any of the convoys we knocked off before!” exclaimed Big Jimbo.

“Yeah, in the past it has always been motorized vehicles. They can be difficult to shake if the riders have any experience running in the mountains,” said Little Jimbo.

“Who said we were going to run from them?” asked Amanda.

The woman’s statement caught the men off guard.

“That is pretty tough talk from someone who has never shot anyone lady,” said Zak.

“We will see when that time comes.”

“I sure hope so. Georgia Boy, I suggest you ride as long as there is daylight today. That should get you close enough to Highway Ninety Three tomorrow to stake out a good ambush point. I have some scouts out in the woods in that area but they might not make it to your location until the morning after. Maybe we should add at least a couple of more scouts to go with you. If it was just nine trucks I wouldn’t be worried but who knows how many government bad boys are in the fifty three foot long semi trailer. Or for that matter how many horses. We have been assured that there is only one trailer like that. The other eight trailers have the stuff we want. You want any additional help?”

“The more the merrier. They better be ready to ride now because we are already behind schedule. Who is rested and ready to ride?”

“I have two of our best scouts ready to ride. I have already sent Johnny to get them out here on the double. They just returned yesterday morning and have had a day’s rest,’ answered Zak.

“I think I know who you’re talking about Zak. I saw them ride in early yesterday morning. I like riding with those two plus they are a couple of badass scouts. With them that should even up the odds a bit,” said Georgia Boy.

As if on cue two riders shot out of the stable and galloped up to the waiting group on their rides. The two scouts were women and that surprised Amanda and Scott. The experienced scouts were not surprised.  All of them had ridden with the women before in the past.

“Janie, Emily this is Scott and Amanda. You know everyone else,” said Zak.

“All right! New blood and one of them is a woman! It is about time Zak! Hi ma’am! My name is Janie and my partner’s name is Emily,” said the woman sitting in her saddle close to Spooky and Amanda.

Both of the women ignored Scott.

Janie was a redheaded woman who was well built and appeared to be in her late twenties. Emily was also a good looking brunette with a similar build and a great smile.

“Hi ladies. I’m Amanda,” she answered offering her hand which both women shook.

“I’m Scott,” interjected the big man.

The two female scouts nodded their heads but didn’t offer their hand or say a word to the new male scout.

Zak was watching the introductions with a smile on his weathered face.

“I have heard a lot of good things about your team from the other scouts when I was training Emily. It was all good. I hope I can become as good as you two,” said Amanda.

“Me too!” exclaimed Scott.

The male scouts laughed at Scott’s comment. They thought he was trying to be funny. Scott didn’t let them know that he wasn’t.

“You’re riding with some good boys, at least the ones we know,” said Janie.

“Have you got a tag yet?” asked Emily.

“Nooo…I don’t know what you mean by the term tag,” answered Amanda.

“A tag is an alias, a name that you go by for communication purposes in case the government shitheads are listening.”

“I see. I know that you are referred to as the Black Widow and Janie goes by Calamity Jane. That is what some of the scouts told me. I have never thought about a tag.”

“Let’s go! We can discuss this while we ride! You get three women together and presto! You have a hen party! Yak, yak, yak! Move out!” yelled Georgia Boy spurring his horse.

Both of the rough female scouts made obscene gestures with their middle finger on one of their hands and uttered a litany of obscene comments targeting Georgia Boy as he left.

The three females brought up the rear and as the two experienced female scouts passed by Zak they blew him kisses. Zak nodded his head back at them. Amanda waved goodbye to Zak.

“God, I love that old man! I wish he was younger or I was older!” laughed Emily.

“Gosh, I hope we didn’t piss off Georgia Boy. He knocked me out one time with the butt of his pistol the first day we met,” said Amanda.

“He did what? Why don’t we wing him in the shoulder Emily?” said Emily eyeing Georgia Boy’s back.

“By God, if he did that to me he would definitely by a hurting son of a bitch! Why did he do something like that?” asked Janie.

“I deserved it because I was crying when three people were killed and Homeland Security agents were nearby. It was right after I was freed from the FEMA camp north of Las Vegas. I realized later that Georgia Boy saved my life by doing that,”

At first the two experienced female scouts said nothing. Finally Emily spoke.

“I guess that is okay then but I still would probably slap the shit out of him when he was least expecting it,”

“Georgia Boy is a big sweetie pie once you get to know him! You know that Emily. Have you figured out a tag Amanda?” said Janie.

“No.”

“I have a good name for you. That is one fine looking white stallion you are riding. Why don’t you use the tag Pale Rider? You know the Pale Rider is a reference to death in the Bible.”

“Pale Rider? That does have a nice ring to it! I kind of like it Calamity Jane! Do you two read the Bible?”

“We both have the good book in our saddlebags but we don’t get the time to read it when we are out in the field. Only when Zak is out in the field with us do we seem to find the time because usually there are four or five us so time is not dominated by guard duty. We like to get the old man going by asking him questions like how in the hell does he think we will be allowed in heaven after killing so many men, things like that,” said Janie.

“That is a good question. What does Zak say? Does he get angry?”

“Not really. Well, sometimes. He tries to rationalize what is happening in the country and here in Nevada. Then he starts to use big fancy words on us. Now we have a dictionary and when we look up one of his big words…now that can piss him off sometimes!”

The three women laughed and continued to follow the men at a brisk trot.

Scott was riding beside Little Jimbo.

“It sounds like they are having a gossip party back there like a bunch of old housewives,” said Scott.

“Hell, let the ladies talk and have some fun big fellow. Janie and Emily have been riding together for at least five years so I imagine they are all talked out with each other by now plus we haven’t had any new female scouts in a long time. Usually when I ride with them they never say a word unless it pertains to business. If Amanda learns some things from those two it will do her some good. Those two ladies are not to be messed with and they are damn good scouts.”

“They don’t seem to be friendly with members of the opposite sex,” said Scott.

“Oh, once you get to know them they are fun to be around. Those two are devoted to each other and will probably die together one of these days. They are deadly shots with those long guns in their saddle holsters and pretty good with their hand pistols. I have seen them both kill off a lot of the enemy in the last five years. Plus they both know some decent dirty jokes.”

“Have they gone across the Nightmare Trail and the Passageway of Faith?”

“Hell yeah! I traveled with them twice, no, three times that I can remember. You can bet those two wild women have been down that trail more than that. At least when they travel that trail they are never alone. Nice girls,” said Little Jimbo.

The eight riders pushed on through the day until darkness fell.

* * * * *

Chapter Twelve

A Tale of Death

The eight Free America scouts arrived to Highway Ninety Three in east central Nevada at two o’clock in the afternoon the day after they left the secondary base which gave them plenty of time to survey the lonely stretch of road winding through the Ruby Mountains. From a high ridge on a smaller mountain and by using their high powered binoculars the eight scouts could see the perfect spot for a night ambush that was on a steep incline.

This stretch of road possessed a steep uphill grade which would drastically slow down the eighteen wheelers to a crawl. On the east side of the roadway was a white pine and juniper stand of trees that was wide and heavily marked with numerous game trails that ran in just about every direction up and down the mountain. On the west side of the roadway was a sheer drop of four to five hundred feet with no room for any vehicle to pull off the pavement. There were no guard rails on this stretch of Highway Ninety Three making it one dangerous road to travel in icy conditions. The white pine forest would provide ample cover for the scouts and their horses. The most advantageous feature of this stretch of Highway Ninety Three was the numerous sharp curves the truckers would have to carefully navigate climbing the mountain.  Line of sight would be severely hampered for the government forces because of the length of the convoy traveling the sharp curves.

All of the scouts were familiar with this stretch of roadway except for Amanda and Scott. The intersection of the abandoned weed choked asphalt roadway to the secondary camp with Highway Ninety Three was six miles ahead of where the ambush was to occur. Getting the hijacked tractor trailers off the main roadway wouldn’t take long.

The air was cold and there was a blanket of snow on the ground in many places, except for the main road. The asphalt surface of Highway Ninety Three had retained some of the day’s warmth from the sun melting the falling snow and turning it into wet slush. Even with all their wheels the government tractors would find the going slow on this part of the highway.  It would be perfect weather for an ambush later that night once the falling temperatures turned that slush into ice. Zak had relayed the weather report to all of the scout’s notebooks letting them know that a heavy snowstorm was to be expected in the wee hours of the morning and it was going to get colder, a lot colder. The storm was to last for more than twenty four hours. By the time the sun rose in the Nevada sky in the morning any tracks from either trucks or horses would no longer exist.

The eight riders were sitting side by side on the apex of the ridge looking down on the isolated highway. From this point the view was majestic, the type of image one would find on a postcard at a tourist trap.

“I remember this spot on Highway Ninety Three real well. Don’t you Georgia Boy?” asked Janie.

“If you are referring to six years ago I certainly do. That was one night no one who was there will ever forget.”

“What was so special about this spot six years ago?” asked Scott.

None of the six experienced scouts immediately answered Scott’s question. Scott could tell he had struck a nerve and said nothing more. He figured that if someone was willing to speak, they would. Amanda, on the other hand, never let a question pass.

“Uh oh! I can tell by the way Eric and Little Jimbo are acting that something went wrong with one of Zak’s plans! This sounds like another Nightmare Trail story! I don’t want to hear about it!”

“Speak for yourself Amanda! I would like to hear about it if someone is willing to share!” shot back Scott.

Finally Eric volunteered the information.

“We had been robbing convoys for a couple of years all up and down that highway. Highway Ninety Three is a long ass highway that runs from Las Vegas well into Montana winding through many mountain ranges. That night six years we raided a six truck convoy at the same spot below. The operation became a cluster fuck. Seven scouts got killed that night. All of them were our friends and we knew each of them well because we didn’t have that many scouts six years ago.”

No one said a word for a minute or two while viewing the isolated roadway with their binoculars. Painful memories filled the experienced scout’s heads.

“I sure don’t like the math running through my head! Seven scouts were killed and there were only six trucks? There are nine trucks coming tonight and we have eight scouts? How many scouts were used in that raid six years ago?” asked Scott.

“We had twenty including Zak,” answered Georgia Boy quietly.

“Twenty! Oh my God! That doesn’t sound good. Well, what happened?” asked Amanda.

“I thought you didn’t want to hear about it!” exclaimed Georgia Boy.

“I certainly do now!”

“Go ahead and tell the two new bees about that night. You are good at remembering events and telling tales around the campfire Little Jimbo. It might be good for them to hear about what happened that night so the same mistakes won’t be made again tonight,” said Georgia Boy while lifting his binoculars to his eyes.

“Okay. Before I do that why don’t we move over yonder and get behind those large boulders to get out of this cold wind to have some coffee and something to eat? It will be the last chance we get to have some hot coffee and to relax before all hell breaks loose tonight. When it gets dark I can tell from the direction the wind is blowing that it is gonna’ be a long cold night so there will be no campfire. Everyone here except for Amanda and Scott knows how miserable it gets for us sitting in a saddle and the horses waiting in the cold. We have the time,” answered Little Jimbo.

“I agree with Little Jimbo. I am starving and I am planning on filling my thermos with some hot coffee to help get me through the night,” agreed the Cajun.

“That sounds good to me. I will rustle up some firewood and you guys get comfortable. Tell Scott and Amanda about that day and don’t leave out the details. You guys weren’t there that day were you Janie?” asked Georgia Boy.

“No. I think we both were still in training around that time but we heard about it. Plus we have raided two convoys at that same spot in the last four years, right Emily?”

“I can remember two of the raids at that spot. No one got killed on our side. That was when we met the Odom boys on both of those raids. We had a party that night after we moved the trucks off the main road.”

Georgia Boy moved down the trail on his horse to fetch some firewood from a nearby stand of trees while the rest of the scouts moved to a sheltered location behind some large boulders and secured their rides. In ten minutes a healthy campfire was burning warming two big pots of coffee. The scouts were munching on various types of cold sandwiches they had prepared before leaving the secondary camp. All of them were sitting either on small boulders or the hard floor of the mountaintop warming their bodies from the campfire. The wind was blowing steadily and it was getting colder but the large boulders were doing their job. At least the wind wasn’t blowing on the scouts or the horses. Every horse had a feed bag attached to his head. It was important to keep the energy levels high in the animals in this brutal weather. Amanda had made the effort to secure a heavy blanket over Spooky and his saddle which brought amused looks from the experienced scouts. They could tell that the young blonde loved her horse.

At this time of year it would be getting dark by five o’clock.

Zak had informed them through their notebooks that the government convoy would be arriving at their ambush at one in the morning so they had a long cold wait ahead.

“I would suggest before you begin your tale that everyone get their thermals on if you don’t have them on now while we have a camp fire. And that includes your thermal socks. Don’t forget those. Your toes will turn black in a heartbeat in these mountains,” said Georgia Boy.

“You have thermal socks Amanda?” asked Eric.

“You bet. I am wearing two pairs and three pairs of wool socks underneath those pairs to keep my feet warm. Zak told me to do that.”

Georgia Boy took off his heavy wool shirt and went to his horse to get a thermal top out of his saddle bag. Georgia Boy was the only scout who had neglected to wear a thermal top. Everyone else had dressed warm for the ride since leaving the secondary camp yesterday. That included thermal tops, pants and socks. Some of the scouts had several pair of thermal socks on their feet. They knew that the most vulnerable part of their body to frostbite was their feet. Even with the additional clothing a person could still feel the cold.

Amanda rose from her boulder and poured the coffee she had made for everyone. She proceeded to make another batch for the thermos bottles everyone carried.

“Okay Little Jimbo, I am ready for another nightmare story I think,” she said sitting down on a small boulder.

“Sitting here at this particular spot brings back some memories, some good and some bad. Zak led us to this same spot and we were sitting behind these same boulders six years ago sipping on some coffee just like we are doing now.  And it was cold as hell then too!  It was another one of Zak’s notorious wing it plans. We had been holding up convoys for two years before that day without anyone getting killed other than the government agents escorting the trucks. Back in those days the government escorts were usually one Jeep or crew cab truck leading the convoy and one bringing up the rear. There were always four men in each vehicle. Most of the time they were easy prey.”

“So you guys killed them?” asked Scott.

“Not always. It depended back then on what they were.  We would shoot out the tires on their vehicles and instruct them to surrender or be killed. Once we had them disarmed and lined up Zak would go down the line and look them over. He would ask them something crazy like who were the Dallas Mavericks, who was George Washington or George Steinbrenner or something like that. The government agents who were American traitors he would pull out of the line and make them stand by the scouts under gun point. The foreign guys he would execute on the spot with his AK47 because they didn’t know American history. He would take the American agents government photo identification card and tell them if he ever saw them again in Nevada he would kill them just like he did their foreign buddies. Then he would turn the government troops loose pointing them down Highway Ninety Three to make the long walk home. On that particular night it was as cold as hell so I would think everyone of those Homeland Security men froze to death or at least wound up with a severe case of frostbite of the hands and feet. They weren’t dressed for zero degree weather. In the past six years scouts have always been finding frozen bodies during the winter in this part of Nevada, mostly along Highway Ninety Three.”

“Zak is one wild man,” said Amanda.

“Actually it worked pretty well. We only found a couple of men who didn’t take his word to heart and came back to fight again,” said Little Jimbo.

“So Zak has an index file on FEMA and Homeland Security agents?” asked Scott.

“Yep. He had and probably still does a plastic box in one of his saddle bags and there are all types of government identification cards all organized alphabetically. After a couple of years that plastic box was full of government photo I.D.’s. So he started to fill a second box.”

“Did he ever have any matches?”

“He had a couple of hits, at least when I was with him.”

“What did he do?” asked Amanda.

“What do you think he did?” asked Little Jimbo.

Amanda didn’t answer. She knew.

“Anyway, that night this six truck convoy had four Hummers as escort vehicles which caught us off guard and they were packed with heavily armed Hussein Guard goons. Hummers are rugged vehicles and they can hold quite a few more people than a Jeep or SUV.  Our first big mistake was shooting out their tires trying to let the American members of the Hussein Guard live. We should have just opened up on the interiors of the Hummers killing everything inside. Our second mistake was an even a bigger mistake.”

“What was the second mistake?” asked Scott.

“We assumed that there was just one driver in each tractor rig. Those big rigs had sleeper cabs and those cabs were packed with Hussein Guard troops and not our Teamster buddies. There were six or seven men in each truck, maybe more. Suddenly we found ourselves severely outnumbered. For the next ten minutes there was a hell of a fire fight. By the Grace of God we had some large boulders by the highway to get behind. You can see the big rocks down there from the ridge. There are still bullet marks on those rocks. We managed to kill all the Hussein Guardsmen eventually. If I recall correctly there were seventy of them. We had six scouts that got killed and two that were lightly wounded. We lost eight horses too.”

“Good Lord! What happened next?” asked Amanda.

“We knew that the shit heads probably got a message off for help and helicopter support would be arriving soon. So we loaded up our dead on the horses that weren’t hurt and retreated into the mountains. Some of us had to walk for a couple of days on the trail until Zak sent some men to get us some help. Before we left, the men on the ground burned the six trucks before we left. I was in that group of men. So was Georgia Boy. It was one of those cluster fucks but we learned something from that night.”

“What was that?” asked Scott.

“We learned that we needed more than automatic weapons to fight this war. That is when we put Ringo to work making dynamite at first, then nitro and finally C4 plastic explosives. Now we have a lot of chemists making nice toys like that. Some of our scouts carry the explosives. I know Big Jimbo does and so does Georgia Boy. What about you ladies?” asked Little Jimbo.

“Emily handles our IED’s and she is damn good at using them. She is the one who went through the training course. I was too nervous handling the explosives. We have killed a lot of FEMA and military rangers with what we call trailside bombs,” said Janie.

Little Jimbo nodded his head.

“Once we started using the high powered explosives the death rate in the scouts started to go down and the death rate of government personnel soared. It has been that way now for the past five years.”

“Wow! Nobody mentioned explosives to me while I was in training!” exclaimed Amanda.

“Me either!” said Scott.

“You will probably get your chance. Zak determines when a scout is ready for the explosives training. You can sure get nervous while hauling ass on your horse while someone is shooting at you!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“Yeah, I didn’t think of that,” said Amanda.

“That’s why Zak said eight scouts should be enough didn’t he?” asked Scott.

“Yep. We don’t sort them out anymore. We let God do that. We just blow most of the enemy up now,” said Little Jimbo.

“That’s the only way to deal with those fuckers. We have lost enough men,” said Georgia Boy.

“So half of us are carrying explosives?” asked Amanda.

The Jimbo’s nodded their heads yes.

“Why don’t you carry explosives Eric?”

Nobody said a word for a long minute. The experienced scouts were exchanging nervous and uneasy looks with each other. Eric was staring at the campfire while holding his tin coffee cup as if he was in a trance. Finally Eric answered.

“I have something a lot better than explosives Amanda.”

All of the experience scouts nodded their heads yes not saying a word.

“What? What is that Eric? How could something be better than dynamite or C4?” asked Amanda.

“Eric has explosives, sort of. He carries poison bombs which is crazy. They scare the shit out of me!” said Little Jimbo.

“Poison bombs! What are poison bombs?” demanded Amanda.

“I don’t know what they are but when the wind is right I have seen the Cajun kill hundreds of government personnel in the past. When one of the Swamp Fox’s bombs go off people die quick. I think he uses poison swamp gas from Florida! You don’t like to talk about it do you Eric?”

“No Little Jimbo, I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Eric was the one who wiped out the Ely and Elko government garrisons four years ago operating alone with no field support. Because of his actions we have had safer rides in the mountains, especially the Ruby Mountains,” said Georgia Boy.

“Really?  How many men were in those government garrisons?” asked Amanda.

Again no one volunteered to answer. Everyone felt that was up to Eric.

“Well Eric?” asked Amanda.

“There were a lot,” was all he said.

“There were over fourteen thousand men stationed at the Ely garrison that day is what I heard,” said Janie.

“Oh my God! How many bombs did that take?” asked Amanda.

“It took two. I had to wait for four days in a cave in the Ruby Mountains for the wind to be blowing in the right direction. I didn’t want to take out the nearby town and all its citizens.”

“I don’t know how you do it Eric without killing yourself,” said Emily.

“His gas mask protects him,” said Scott.

Georgia Boy laughed.

“He has a gas mask but he didn’t use it in that instance. It wouldn’t have done him any good. The type of gas he used that day will kill you if it gets on your skin. You either have a lot of guts or you are just plain crazy Eric. I will say that. I don’t want that deadly shit in any of my saddle bags.  Let’s get through with our break and get on down to the road. We have some work to do for our arriving guests tonight” said Georgia Boy.

* * * * *

Chapter Thirteen

The Birth of the Pale Rider

It was now one o’clock in the morning. The temperature was sixteen degrees and it was snowing briskly. The wind was blowing hard and because of the snow clouds there was no moonlight. The eight scouts from Free America had laid their ambush for the government convoy and were patiently waiting in the nearby white pine forest along the east side of Highway Ninety Three. The thick stand of white pine trees was offering some protection from the cold wind but not much.

The advantage of using technology in the preparation of the ambush proved to be a big plus. After their coffee break earlier in the day the scouts traveled down the trail to perform the work necessary for the ambush which consisted of primarily the placement of the IED devices. The task took less than one hour. Once completed they used the resources of the notebooks and the geek squad at the secondary base to locate the real time position of the government convoy and to download up to the minute weather reports. Once it was determined that the convoy would indeed, arrive at one o’clock in the morning barring any unforeseen delays the scouts located a sheltered mountain ravine through the use of satellite imagery that was close to the highway where the ambush was to take place to block the bitter wind and this allowed them to build another campfire that could not be seen from any location on Highway Ninety Three or from the air. This also kept their horses warm during the wait as well as their own bodies which conserved their energy and helped them to stay focused on the difficult task on hand. The scouts extinguished the campfire at twelve thirty and moved into place.

Despite the howling wind the scouts could hear the growling of semi tractor trucks in the distance slowly moving around the bend of the roadway at the base of the mountain leading to the incline where the ambush was to occur. They could hear the trucks before they could see their headlights. The big vehicles were about to start the arduous task of proceeding up the steep mountain incline.

The eight scouts had spent less than thirty minutes surveying and planning the mechanics of their ambush earlier. It was decided that the three female scouts would be the ones to handle the ninth tractor trailer and the rear escort vehicle, whatever the rear escort vehicle was to be. The Jimbo’s along with Georgia Boy would place the crucial roadside explosives along the incline and handle their detonation. The intricacies involving timing were proving to be complex but the scouts who had the experience with explosives seemed to know what they were doing. Amanda was uneasy about the unknown variables in the operation but Scott and the seasoned scouts seemed unconcerned. They felt they had a job to do no matter the cost. Amanda was told several times by Georgia Boy to quit worrying and asking so many questions.

Amanda was sitting on Spooky along with Emily and Janie well hidden in the thick pine forest scant yards away from the snow covered asphalt road. Even with her thermals and her insulated gloves she was shivering slightly, either from the cold or from fear. Her two new female friends were silently sitting on their horses beside her and Spooky with their gloved hands thrust in their coat pockets attempting to stay warm.

“There they are. According to Little Jimbo when they come out of that turn they are six miles away from the start of the incline. The big rigs don’t seem to be moving very well do they?” said Amanda.

“They are having trouble seeing the road because of the heavy snowfall. Once they get to the steel guardrails they will be able to determine where the road actually is, at least the middle of it. They are still a good half hour away from us if they keep moving at that speed. Can you see anything with your binoculars?” asked Janie.

Amanda was using the same high powered binoculars Zak had blessed her with the day the Stratosphere was felled. They were the type that used any available light to see in the dark. The convoy was still hard to see because of the falling snow.

“I see more than two Hummers! There is one Hummer leading the convoy, two more between the fourth and fifth semi tractors and one in front of the last truck,”

“That doesn’t sound right! The fourth Hummer is in front of the ninth truck? That doesn’t make sense!” said Emily.

“No, it doesn’t,” added Janie.

“Why is that?” asked Amanda.

“I would think they would be covering their rear. All of the other convoys we have taken down in the past had security to prevent a sneak attack from their backside,” replied Janie.

“In all those attacks did we ever hit them from the back?”

“No. Every assault after that one disaster starts with IED’s igniting from usually the passenger side of the vehicle in the middle of the convoy.”

“Maybe that is the reason why there is no rear escort,” said Amanda.

“I don’t think so. Something stinks,” replied Janie.

She removed a small radio from her thick jacket pocket and held it to her face.

“Georgia Boy, you see what I am seeing?” she asked.

“I sure do! Can you tell if that last trailer is vented for animals? That rig is the one that is supposed to be carrying horses and men.”

Amanda heard what Georgia Boy had asked. She peered through her binoculars once again for a long moment as the trailers moved slowly across the flat roadway at the base of the mountain.

“That trailer ain’t vented like any horse carrier I have ever seen. It is sealed on the sides but I do see several vents on its roof and steam pouring out. Something is in the trailer but I don’t think there are any horses! If there is it must stink to high heaven by now!”

“I agree! It looks like a lot of heated air pouring out of those tubes. I think that trailer is full of Hussein Guardsmen probably with light motorized dirt bikes equipped with snow tires. That is a fifty three foot long trailer. There could be a hell of lot more than twenty men in that trailer!” said Emily.

“I think it does contain troops. We had trailers like that when I was in the Seals that were equipped with racks where the men rested. Some of those trailers could hold a hundred fully armed men and twenty light dirt bikes. It looks like they are expecting us. Can you see in the cab of any tractor?” asked Georgia Boy.

Amanda moved her binoculars to view the first truck. Focusing on the cab she could see four distinct faces.

“Amanda says she can see four men in front including the driver. Emily is using her binoculars and she says that ain’t one of our Teamsters driving the rig and she knows all those men. What do you want to do Georgia Boy?”

“I wonder what happened to our Teamster buddies.  Give me a minute,” answered Georgia Boy calmly.

Less than thirty seconds passed when Georgia Boy communicated with Emily over the radio.

“The Cajun is headed down the trail in the tree line to join you ladies. He has a big ass Masterlock that he is going to give one of you girls. He will tell you what the plan is when he gets there.”

“Oh shit! I hate a sudden change of plans! That is never a good sign!” exclaimed Janie.

The three women continued to watch the convoy as it approached the beginning of the incline. It took Eric six minutes to arrive.

“What’s going on?” asked Janie.

“There has been a slight change in our plan ladies.”

“So I heard! Well you better be quick about it!” said Janie.

“Amanda, here is a padlock. When the convoy is on the incline ride up behind the last trailer and lock the double doors. Stay low in the saddle on that white horse when you ease out on the roadway and hopefully anyone looking in a rear view mirror won’t see you because of the background of snow and that white horse. I can see a ladder on the rear of that last trailer. I will be here with a little present I have for the boys in the back of that trailer. Emily, you and Janie move up the trail fifty yards and when you see me drop my gift down the rear tube on the roof of the trailer open up with your automatics on the cab and fill it full of lead. Stay in the tree line because there are IED’s all up the roadway. Once the explosions go off then move in for the kills. Any questions?”

“What do you want me to do after I place the lock on the doors?” asked Amanda.

“Georgia Boy said for you to move to your left and come up the convoy on the cliff side. He told me to tell you to kill any survivors jumping or falling out of the cabs of the trucks and to be quick about it. Stay behind the trailers for cover so none of our guys shoots you by accident. The government goons will exit the cabs through the driver’s door because of the gun fire coming from the tree line so you are going to be busy. Stay alert and maybe none of us will get killed. You think you can handle that?” said Eric.

The blonde haired woman nodded her head yes slightly. Janie and Emily had concerned looks on their faces. They knew things were going to get violent.

Amanda had never seen the Cajun so serious. A dark look had spread across his tan face. She realized at that moment that the next few minutes were going to be dangerous for her and her friends.

She took the stout padlock from his extended gloved hand and headed Spooky down the trail in the tree line staying out of sight. As she left she saw the Cajun quickly dismount his horse and lay on his back by the side of the roadway while Janie and Emily covered his body with snow using their gloved hands. The two women were moving quickly.

Now Amanda was shaking and she knew it wasn’t from the cold. She was shaking from fear.

Fifty to sixty yards away she patiently waited in the white pine and juniper forest for the convoy’s arrival. Spooky did not move or make a sound during this time. The horse for some reason seemed very calm.  Amanda imagined that the white stallion was sensing danger.  Fifteen long minutes later the first Hummer escort vehicle passed slowly by her location less than twenty yards away. The government convoy had now tightened their formation to where each vehicle was bumper to bumper. It took another three minutes of nerve wracking waiting for the last tractor trailer to pass by. Now was the time for the young female scout to act.

She gently kicked Spooky’s flanks and the white stallion trotted out on the icy roadway staying on his feet and pacing the last truck as if he was on a Sunday ride. The horse acted like he knew what the young woman was going to do. When he got close to the rear of the trailer Amanda leaned forward in her saddle standing in her stirrups as far as she could, just barely reaching the security handle on the left trailer door that contained the hole for a padlock. The trailer had not been locked by the government for the trip. She was surprised that in one motion she managed to place the heavy padlock where it was supposed to go in the handle without dropping it. For some reason she was not shaking any more. Using both hands she clicked the big padlock securely shut while leaning precariously in her saddle. Then she settled back in her saddle, took a deep breath and continued to follow directly behind the trailer out of view of the truck’s big side mirrors. At the same time she drew one of her automatic pistols with her gloved right hand and she was surprised that through the thick leather she could feel that the butt of the weapon was ice cold. She wanted to be prepared for anything. So removed both of her gloves placing them in her right coat pocket and held a Colt automatic in each hand. For some strange reason the two weapons felt warm in each of her hands.

The snow continued to fall heavily.

The big tractor trailer began to move slower because of the icy surface conditions on Highway Ninety Three. She could hear the rear wheels of the big tractor spin for a brief moment and then scrape when they cut through the thin layer of ice grabbing the asphalt surface. One minute after placing the heavy padlock on the double doors of the trailer she saw out of the corner of her eye Eric roll out of the snow and jump to his feet on the right side of the roadway, grabbing the last rung of the ladder all in one motion. Once the Cajun got his feet on the bottom rung of the aluminum ladder he paused and then smiled and then winked at the young blonde before he started his climb. In his mouth he had what looked to her like a small tin can with a ring and a chain attached. Then he scooted up the aluminum ladder not missing a step and disappeared on the roof.

Nineteen seconds later she saw the Cajun jump off the top of the trailer to land in a snow bank to her right. He rolled when he hit the ground and quickly got to his feet. Two seconds later she heard a loud bang from within the trailer while at the same time she saw the trailer doors bulge slightly. The stout padlock kept the double doors secure.

One more second later all hell broke loose. Everything happened quickly.  There were several large, powerful explosions along the right side of Highway Ninety Three accompanied by many smaller ones. The explosions were loud and strong. She could briefly see long shadows cast across the white canopy of the roadway floor to her left from the flash generated by the explosions.  At her position at the rear of the convoy she could feel the powerful concussion waves moving through the air rushing past her and her horse. At the same time the sounds of automatic gunfire filled the cold night. The gunfire could only be described as loud, intense and consistent.

Following Georgia Boy’s orders she moved to her left on Spooky and headed up the incline alongside the burning convoy navigating through the steam and smoke. The convoy had now come to an abrupt stop and she was not sure what to expect. Ahead of her in the distance she could see one of the black Hummer escort vehicles lying on its roof on the snow covered highway and two semi trailers tipped over on their sides along with their tractors. There was now a lot of smoke filling the air but thankfully the blowing cold wind was clearing it out sporadically enhancing visibility for brief moments.

As she moved out from behind the last truck the driver’s door on the ninth truck flung open and two men in government uniforms fell out to the icy ground landing hard on their sides. Both men had assault rifles in their hands but did not have the weapons in position to fire. The two men stayed on the hard ground for a brief moment barely moving. Amanda had her automatic pistol ready to fire. She was surprised that a feeling of calm came over her body. She wasn’t shaking any more. The instinct for survival was now in control. She fired her automatic pistol as both men began to raise their weapons while still prone on the ground emptying her clip. She killed them both.

She waited for a split second on Spooky placing the empty pistol in a holster strapped on her left thigh with her left hand. Another soldier spilled out of the same cab of the truck falling directly on his head and shoulders. The man had no weapon in his hands but Amanda never hesitated, killing him on the ground where he fell with the Colt in her right hand.

The white stallion reacted without being spurred moving up the incline to the next tractor trailer. Amanda quickly removed the spent pistol from her left holster on her thigh and deftly removed the spent clip and replaced it with one that was full. This time four men jumped from a truck cab which was on fire and being fired upon by one of Free America’s scouts. She could clearly hear the sound of bullets ripping through metal. One of the men was engulfed in flames. Amanda repeated her role again executing the guard that was engulfed in flames and disposing of the remaining of had hit the snow covered ground firing their weapons. She quickly shook the spent clips out of her Colts and reloaded. For the next five minutes she did what she had been trained to do moving up the disabled government convoy executing armed and unarmed government soldiers scrambling from the burning wreckage. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity the gunfire stopped.

Amanda realized she was halfway up the convoy when she saw another rider coming down the same side of the convoy to join up with her. She saw that the scout was Georgia Boy.

When he was ten feet away she could see he had a grin on his face.

“Damn girl that was good shooting! I knew you had it in you…”

Suddenly a shot rang out. Georgia Boy stood in his stirrups grabbing his chest. From behind the scout Amanda could see a government guard with a pistol aimed in her direction. As Georgia Boy fell to the ground to his right she opened up on the Hussein guard with both of her automatic pistols killing him where he stood on the icy road. At first she froze, not believing what she had just witnessed.

Amanda jumped off of Spooky and ran to where Georgia Boy laid in the snow on his back. Blood was oozing out of the front of his chest and he was not moving or speaking. His eyes had an eerie stare looking straight at the night sky.

Falling to her knees she placed her gloved hands on the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Help! Help!” she started to yell as loud as she could.

The first scout to reach her was Eric. He ran up to where she was attempting to stop the flow of blood. He stood motionless for a moment watching Amanda and her frenzied attempts.

“Help me Eric! Help me!” she pleaded. Then she began to cry.

Eric reached down and pulled her to her feet and then to his body which she resisted.

“Georgia Boy can’t be helped! Get yourself together!  Georgia Boy is dead! There are some stragglers left in this convoy and they are out to kill you! Get your guns and get back on Spooky! Move it! Acting this way can get you or I killed!”

The young blonde instantly snapped out of her anguish. She quickly mounted Spooky without saying a word, replaced the spent clips on her automatic pistols and moved up the incline along the burning convoy in a methodical fashion. She and the white stallion moved around the smoking machines that were strewn across Highway Ninety Three as if they were on a deadly mission.

Eric turned to see Janie and Emily bringing up his ride. As he mounted his horse he heard automatic pistol fire erupting fifty yards ahead of his location in the direction that Amanda had taken.

The three scouts watched through the falling snow as the young blonde haired woman moved her horse close to a tractor that had been knocked on its side. Two men were attempting to crawl out of the passenger’s door of the cab and she coldly rode up to the two government troops to where she was less than six feet away and shot them both with her automatic pistols several times in the face. Then she deftly stepped off her horse from the right stirrup without touching the ground moving up the big vehicle to stand on the side of the tractor’s cab and opened up with her automatic pistols again on whatever was inside. It was a one way exchange of gunfire and lasted for ten seconds. Then she hopped on Spooky from the side of the cab landing in her saddle, reloaded her automatic pistols with new clips and took off to the north again. It was cold efficiency at its best. Only five seconds passed when the three experienced scouts heard her automatic Colt’s firing again.

“Holy shit, Mother of God! I think the Pale Rider has become…the Pale Rider,” said Emily softly.

“Let’s go help her! You girls take the right side and I will catch up with Amanda! We still have a lot of work to do and you know those choppers will be here in an hour or two! If they don’t look dead shoot them again!  Tell everyone to meet at the rear of the convoy when things are wrapped up!”

Then the Cajun took off to catch up with Amanda. He could hear more automatic pistol fire coming from her direction. As he approached on his horse he saw her once again kill two men crawling out of a burning Hummer on their bellies. Then she emptied her pistols into the interior of the Hummer and calmly reloaded again not wasting any time or motion.

Fifteen minutes later the surviving scouts met at the rear of the burning convoy. During the fifteen minutes the two scouts who had taken the cliff side of the convoy had located twenty eight more survivors of the attack that Eric knew of. That was the number of men he and Amanda had found on the left side of the decimated convoy. Amanda had executed them all while Eric watched.  Most guards were injured and then executed except for two Hussein Guard soldiers who didn’t have a scratch on their bodies. The blonde woman known as the Pale Rider was the scout who had rounded up the two uninjured survivors who she caught in the act of trying to escape to the nearby trees. She used the big white stallion to herd the two men to the rear of the convoy where her fellow scouts were waiting. When the Pale Rider arrived at the rear of the convoy she calmly dismounted Spooky, walked up to the two guards who had their gloved hands on their heads and proceeded to kill one of the guardsman with a shot to his face not saying a word while Scott and the experienced scouts watched. She then motioned for the uninjured government agent to sit down on the icy road at the back of the convoy under gunpoint. Eric then asked her what she was doing only to be told to shut up and learn by the blonde haired woman.

Once the scouts had congregated at the rear of the convoy Amanda took charge.

“Sit down on that rock shit head! Keep you rifle on him Janie and if he even sneezes blow his head off!”

“What are we doing?” asked Little Jimbo.

“Eric! What did you drop in this last trailer? Poison?”

Eric nodded his head yes.

“Is it the type that if it gets on your skin it will kill you?”

“No, but I can tell you that everyone who is in that trailer is dead.”

“That is good news,” she said as she shot the lock off the door with her pistol.

She opened the double doors. The interior lights of the trailer were still on. Inside the trailer the scouts could see dead men lying everywhere on the floor and in racks built on the sides of the trailer, just as Georgia Boy had said. Towards the end of the trailer was a rack of secured dirt bikes. Also piled in the back of the trailer to one side were the bodies of nine Teamster drivers. They were the Teamster friends of Free America. All of them had been shot in the back of the head. Their bodies were stiff indicating they were probably dead when the convoy left Las Vegas.

“Those sorry ass mother fuckers! What the hell is with that?” asked Big Jimbo.

“I reckon they were going to dump them on Highway Ninety Three to send us a message,” said Amanda.

Amanda jumped up in the trailer and the first thing the young leader did was remove the identification tags of Free America’s murdered friends.

“Emily, take these back to Zak. At least he will know our friends have been murdered by the bastards and maybe he can do something for their families if they have any families now. I imagine they are either dead too or in a FEMA camp somewhere.”

Emily walked to the back of the trailer and took the nine tags. She had tears streaming down the front of her face.

Then Amanda grabbed one of the dirt bikes throwing it out of the back of the trailer and onto the highway. She had a strange look on her face but it was not a look of anger. It could only be described as a look of retribution.

“What’s going on?” asked Little Jimbo softly.

“Hell if I know! She is mad as hell I think,” answered Eric with a whisper.

“Bring that shit head over here Calamity Jane!” she ordered.

Janie kicked the Hussein guard in the middle of his back. The man got to his feet and he was shaking with fear and crying loudly, pleading for his life.

“Which of these trucks have the Stingers? Are there any traps waiting for us?” she said placing her cocked pistol on his mouth.

“The first one! The first one! That is where the Stingers are! There are no traps!” he replied loudly.

“You better not be lying to me or you are a dead man! Big Jimbo, go check it out and get back here!”

Big Jimbo got on his horse and left in a hurry. No one said a word while he was gone for two minutes. The Hussein Guard was crying and pleading for his life the entire time.

“Shut up!” yelled Amanda  as she hit the guard in the face with her pistol.

Big Jimbo soon returned.

“Jackpot Pale Rider! The trailer is loaded to the roof with Stinger missiles!”

When Big Jimbo replied Amanda casually shot the Hussein guard in his left foot. The man fell to the snow covered ground screaming while pleading for his life and grabbing his foot with both hands.

“Get up!” yelled Amanda.

The guard struggled to his feet without any assistance.

“Were you one of the dickheads who killed our friends?”

“No! No! Homeland Security interrogators did that at the loading dock! We were told to dump a body every ten miles once we got to the Ruby Mountains!”

“Get on your damn dirt bike! I am going to let you live this time, you scumbag!” she yelled while ripping the government badge off his uniform.

“If I catch you in this state again I will kill you! You go back and tell your superiors that Nevada belongs to Free America and that the Pale Rider is going to kill every government son of a bitch that she finds in this state! You got that?” she asked more calmly.

“I will deliver your message!” replied the shaken man.

“I suggest that you apply for a transfer,” she added.

The Hussein guard got on the dirt bike, started it up and headed erratically down the icy incline.

The seven Free America scouts watched him silently until he disappeared around the bend of the highway at the base of the mountain.

“I have one question! Who can drive a big truck?” asked Amanda.

“Me and Big Jimbo can drive semi trucks,” replied Little Jimbo.

“I have one more question! Eric, do you think we can use this truck and trailer? There is a lot of trash on Highway Ninety Three ahead of us that is blocking our way.”

“I think the big rig will push anything out of the way on this icy road. What’s the plan?”

“I am looking for a quick and warm ride home for everybody. Big Jimbo, you drive the truck with the Stinger missiles. That is what we came for. Little Jimbo, you drive this truck. We can use this ramp and throw out enough bodies to make room for our horses. Eric, sweep the two trucks we are taking and kill any bugs you find. Also, I have two final questions. Do you have any more explosives to blow up the trucks that we leave?”

“We have enough and that shouldn’t take me long. What is your other question?” asked the Cajun.

“Would you ride with me, Georgia Boy and Big Jimbo please?” she asked softly.

“Sure.”

“Scott, I will take care of Georgia Boy. Would you help Little Jimbo, Janie and Emily load the horses in this trailer please?”

“That will be no problem. Is it safe to ride in the back of this trailer Eric?” asked Scott.

“It is safe now. That type of poison lasts for ten minutes at the most. Just keep those vents running during the trip. Horses use up a lot of oxygen and that trailer is enclosed except for the power ventilation system,” answered Eric.

“Maybe we should ride with the horses in the back of this trailer. They might get nervous with all those dead bodies on the racks. What about our Teamster friends?” asked Emily.

“We are taking them home to the secondary base to give them a proper Christian burial. I think you might be right about the horses. Scott can ride shotgun with Little Jimbo and you two can keep the horses calm. We need to get out of here and we don’t have the time to throw out all the soldiers bodies right now. When we get on down the road we will stop somewhere and get rid of them. That way Big Jimbo, Eric and I can help.”

“There is a bridge ten miles ahead of us on the road to our base between two mountains that crosses a narrow gorge. We can dump the bodies there,” said Little Jimbo.

“I reckon that is what we will do then. We need to get off Highway Ninety Three as soon as we can. Give us some time to plant the explosives and I will radio you to see if you guys are ready to leave. Thanks for all your help,” said Amanda.

Then she, Eric and Big Jimbo left to retrieve Georgia Boy’s body and carry it to the front truck.

“Wow! I guess she has come back down to Earth,” said Little Jimbo.

“Did you see her kill those guards with her automatics? She killed sixteen or seventeen of them up close and personal. She could have easily been shot. This trip has certainly changed her,” said Janie.

“Who would have thought that about her? I was worried that she was too timid and that she might get killed on this excursion. I certainly was wrong about that. The girl has a temper,” said Emily.

“I was worried about her too! She was scaring me for awhile there at the end but I don’t think this trip changed her one bit. I think she had what we just saw in her all along,” said Scott softly.

“I think she will remember this outing for the rest of her life. It was her first one. I know one thing. This is one mission that I will never forget. I am going to miss Georgia Boy. Little Johnny is going to take this news hard,” said Emily.

Emily still had tear stains on her face.

“So will Zak. Georgia Boy was with us for a long time through some rough years. He just made a mistake,” added Little Jimbo.

“Let’s get these bodies out of here and load the horses. I don’t want to be near this place when Amanda blows up what’s left of the convoy! She’s crazier than Zak!” said Janie.

“Someone still has a difficult task ahead.  Who is gonna’ tell little Johnny his dad is dead?” said Little Jimbo.

Janie, Scott and Emily nodded their heads in agreement.

Chapter Fourteen

A Message to the Government

It took Amanda, Big Jimbo and Eric five minutes to gather up Georgia Boy’s body and relocate it to the lead semi truck. Once they had his body positioned in the sleeper cab Big Jimbo settled into the driver’s seat. The big rig was still running. The driver had just enough time to set the gear into neutral and to implement the air brakes before he was killed by one of Free America’s bullets. This was the truck the scouts were after. As Amanda was positioning Georgia Boy’s body in the sleeper cab Big Jimbo’s notebook started to beep. Eric was standing on the running board on the passenger’s side with the door open waiting on Amanda.

“That’s Zak,” said Eric.

Big Jimbo lifted the cover of his notebook and Zak’s grizzled face appeared on screen.

“You scouts need to drop everything and get the hell out of there! Nellis Air Force base has just scrambled twenty four helicopters and two stealth jet fighters just one minute ago. According to Data they are headed in your general direction. Get on your horses and get out!”

Immediately the Pale Rider emerged in Amanda once again. She jumped from the back seat of the cab to face the video camera on the notebook. She knew that the old man could clearly see her face.

“Fuck that order Zak! We are coming home with Georgia Boy and the Stingers! Georgia Boy and all our Teamster friends have been killed and we ain’t leaving them here!  I will take care of the damn helicopters and jets!” she yelled.

Then she slammed the lid of the notebook to close it. Big Jimbo and Eric’s eyes immediately grew wide with alarm.

“Amanda! Get control of your emotions!” said Eric.

“I have control of my emotions Cajun! Do you have any of those bad poison bombs with you?” she asked.

“Well…yeah. I have two big ones in one of my saddle bags!”

“Are they the ones that kill on contact?”

“That’s the ones I am talking about!”

“Can you set them to part of a booby trap?”

“As a matter of fact I can! I can set them by time or by motion sensors! Why?”

“Get your butt back to the trailer with the horses and get those bombs! Set both of them by tractor trailer right behind us and the tractor trailer in front of the truck Little Jimbo is driving! And you determine how to set them for our arriving guests! You are the expert! The wind is blowing down the mountain in that direction! Move it!” she ordered.

Eric paused for a second looking at Big Jimbo. Big Jimbo just shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head yes.

“It sounds good to me Swamp Fox,” he said.

Eric jumped to the snow covered road and took off on foot in the direction of the last trailer.

Amanda leaned out of the passenger door and yelled.

“Bring Spooky back with you!”

“What is the plan?” asked Big Jimbo. The big black man’s eyes were about to bug out of his head.

Big Jimbo was behind her one hundred percent. He knew something had to be done and had to be done quickly.  He had seen Zak act this way many times in the past. Amanda was doing her job.

“I need two of those Stinger missiles, Big Jimbo. Let’s get two of them out of the back of this trailer and I want you to give me a crash course on how to use them.”

Big Jimbo set the air brake and hopped out of the truck. Before leaving the cab Amanda noticed the notebook on the seat was now beeping…frequently. She thought about lifting the lid of the notebook but decided she didn’t have the time to get in an argument with the old man. She hopped down to the ground and went to the rear of the semi trailer. Big Jimbo had two wooden crates lying on the snow. He bent over with a small crow bar and opened both crates.

“Those are Stinger missiles.”

He bent over and picked one of the weapons up placing it on his right shoulder.

“They are easy to use. You just push this black button below this box, aim it in the air in the general direction of your target, pull the trigger and the missile will do the rest. Just brace your feet as the thing does have a kick when it is fired.”

He handed the weapon over to Amanda.

She was surprised to find that is was heavy.

“I can handle that. I am going to take the Hummer that is in front of this truck so I will place these in the back seat. When Eric returns with Spooky tell him to turn him loose so he will follow me up Highway Ninety Three. Then you and the rest of the scouts get the hell out of here to the turnoff and kill your lights once things heat up.”

“Is this a change of plan? You didn’t say anything to Eric about doing this!”

“I don’t need Eric’s approval to do what the hell I think needs to be done!” she replied.

As the two scouts were walking back to the cab of the truck that was pulling the trailer with the stinger missiles Big Jimbo started to talk.

“Amanda, that Hummer is hot! You can’t be taking that vehicle! Those missiles on the jets or the helicopters that are on the way from Nellis Air Force base will be able to zero in on you in a second!”

“I know that! Get in the rig and do what I tell you to do! You need to get that truck with the Stingers to the old man!”

As they arrived at the drivers door both could hear the beeping emanating from the notebook on the front seat. Zak was attempting to get a hold of someone, anyone that would listen.

“I need your notebook for now. I will give you mine when I return to the secondary base!”

The young blonde grabbed his notebook computer from the seat not listening to whether Big Jimbo objected or not. Before Big Jimbo climbed up into the driver’s seat he paused.

“Here Pale Rider, take my insulated head warmer. You’re gonna’ need that….maybe.”

He removed his black woolen ski hat and placed it on Amanda’s blonde hair. Then he kissed her on her cheek.

“Good luck Pale Rider,” was all he said.

“Thanks Big Jimbo. Drive careful on these icy roads. I will see you later…hopefully.”

He then climbed into the big rig and shut the driver’s door. He watched in his headlights as Amanda lugged the two Stinger missiles in her arms and placed them in the rear seat of the Hummer.

She turned and waved at Big Jimbo then jumped into the driver’s seat. The black vehicle slowly took off up the incline roadway and immediately the blue light array on the roof of the vehicle came to life as if she was offering herself as a target. At the same time Eric opened the door on the passenger’s side of the semi tractor and climbed in. In his headlights Big Jimbo saw the white stallion take off at a brisk trot following the Hummer which was fading into the distance.

“Little Jimbo is pushing the trash out of the way…who the hell is driving that Hummer?” asked Eric looking through the windshield.

“Who do you think Cajun? That’s the Pale Rider.”

“What does she think she is doing? The stupid girl suddenly has a death wish!” exclaimed Eric.

The Cajun opened the passenger’s door and jumped down on the road when Big Jimbo yelled.

“What do you think you’re doing? It is bad enough one of us has gone crazy!  You ain’t gonna’ catch her on foot! Go set those two poison bombs and let’s get the hell out of here! Those jets from Nellis will be here in ten more minutes!”

At that moment Little Jimbo and Scott pulled up alongside Big Jimbo’s rig. They both were looking at the fading tail lights and blue flashing lights of the Hummer disappearing in the night. Scott looked in Big Jimbo’s cab.

“Is that Eric?” he asked.

“No, that’s Amanda! Go on ahead of me. I will catch up! I am waiting on Eric to place his bombs!”

Little Jimbo put his rig into gear and took off up the road. Two long minutes later the Cajun returned. In his hand he had his notebook. As he settled into the passengers seat Big Jimbo put his rig into gear and started his climb chasing after Little Jimbo and Scott.

The second Georgia Boy’s notebook powered up and went through its diagnostics it started to beep. Eric opened the lid and within seconds the old man’s face was on the screen. He was not happy.

“What in the hell is going on out there?” he asked loudly.

“Fuck if I really know Zak! Me and Big Jimbo are in the semi truck with the stingers and Georgia Boy’s body. Little Jimbo and Scott are in a second truck in front of us with our horses with Janie and Emily in the back with a hundred dead Hussein guardsmen. We will be turning off of Highway Ninety Three to our road in ten minutes or so. We are going to try to make the deep pass and kill our lights there and wait to see what happens”

“Have you taken care of the bugs on those trucks?”

“Yes we have. In this snowstorm the government goons will never see us.”

“God, I hate it when thing get screwed up like this! You didn’t say anything about Amanda. So where is Amanda?”

“She took off up Highway Ninety Three in a government Hummer with Spooky trotting behind.”

“What? The Hummer is hot?” asked Zak.

“The Hummer is as hot as hell,” answered Eric.

“We don’t have much time! Whose idea is this?”

“Well, I reckon it was the Pale Rider’s. She sort of went crazy again when you got in contact with us and told us to split.”

“The hard headed bitch ain’t answering her notebook!”

“I think she will if you keep trying! She took Big Jimbo’s notebook! We are turning onto our road to the secondary base now.”

“You better move it! According to our radar screens those jets are only five minutes away!”

“Okay, I got your countdown on my screen. We will find somewhere to stop and kill our lights. I think we will make it to the pass where we can’t visually be seen.  I sure hope Amanda gets in touch with you. A Hummer and a horse ain’t near as quick as a jet plane equipped with missiles,” said Eric.

“I wouldn’t count on her using that notebook. She is the most hard headed woman I have ever met in my life!”

“Oh yeah! Big Jimbo just told me she took two Stingers with her in the Hummer,” said Eric while wincing.

“What? She doesn’t know how to use a Stinger!”

“Uh…Big Jimbo gave her a crash course before she left,” answered Eric, This time Big Jimbo had a look of pain on his face.

“Son of a bitch! I ought to kick your ass Big…”

Eric closed the lid of the notebook.

“Why did you close the lid?” asked Big Jimbo with a grin on his face.

“He doesn’t need to be wasting time cussing us out. He needs to get in touch with Amanda. I don’t think Amanda knows what she has gotten herself into tonight. She is driving a moving target and luring the enemy away from us with two jet planes after her.”

“Oh, I disagree with that statement my good friend. I think the young lady knows what she is doing. What I saw was the look of a person who has been touched by an avenging angel.”

“I hope you are right but I think we will never see Amanda again. At least I hope we will be able to recover her body and give her a proper Christian burial in the Valley of Freedom along with Georgia Boy.”

“I pray that you are wrong but at least one good thing will come out of this cold night.”

“What is that?”

“That the people who get killed tonight will have died free and they died free fighting the enemy.”

‘Yeah, a lot of people have been killed tonight but so far I know of only one who has died free. I hope it stays that way.”

* * * * *

Amanda had been driving the black Hummer for only five minutes when she looked in her rear view mirror. A wide grin broke across her face as she lowered the driver’s side power window.

Soon a large white head was beside her window pacing the slow moving Hummer. She reached out her window and stroked the right side of Spooky’s face. When she did, the white stallion snorted and started to shake his big head up and down.

“Hello, you big gorgeous boy! I knew you would rescue me! We are going to have one hell of a date tonight! We are going to move up this road for the next few minutes like this and then we are going for a ride! Do you want to do that?”

The big white stallion shook his head up and down again as if he understood her every word.

“You stay close Spooky! Follow behind me while I am in this truck! I have to answer a phone call!”

The white stallion fell in behind the Hummer to follow.

The woman flipped the notebook around on her bench seat and lifted the lid.  On the screen was Zak’s face. Strangely, he didn’t look all that angry.

“Hi Zak! It was so nice of you to call!”

“It was so nice of you to finally answer! So what is your plan, that is, if you have a plan?”

“Oh I don’t really know Zak! It is kind of like one of your crazy plans except instead of killing everything around I only have to kill two more people before I head home.”

“That is real funny Miss Priss. Those two people are flying stealth jet fighters. I would think that would be a fairly hard kill.”

“I know.”

“The jet planes will be at the ambush site in five more minutes and the helicopters won’t be far behind. What are you gonna’ do? Eric told me that the white stallion is with you. Why don’t you get out of the Hummer and get on that horse and leave?”

“That’s what I am planning to do Zak, except I want to send the government boys a message that they better stay out of our mountains and give our guys a chance to escape with those Stingers! I think shooting down two of their best machines with those Stingers will get our message to them. Don’t you?”

“You don’t need to do that Amanda,” said Zak.

“Yes I do! Those fuckers killed Georgia Boy tonight and they are going to pay for that! Eric told you about his bombs didn’t he?”

Zak paused for a moment before answering.

“Eric informed me. There are twenty four helicopters headed your way. Some are attack helicopters and some are the big Chinooks carrying troops. I think that will buy you some valuable time to get farther on Highway Ninety Three. I think the jets will circle the area waiting on the arrival of the main force before they execute you.”

“First of all, you are the executioner aren’t you? There is no one that is gonna’ execute me and Spooky tonight.”

“Okay, so what is your plan! Speak up woman! The jets are two minutes away and once the jets arrive at your location you will be on your own communication wise. We will have to go silent so they won’t pick up on this base.”

“I plan on parking at the gorge bridge and nailing those jets. They won’t do anything until the choppers get up in these mountains. When Eric’s bombs go off it will be too late for the government boys.”

“That sounds pretty good to me. Don’t park the Hummer on the bridge. We need that to stay intact so the government boys will still use this lonely ass road to transport supplies. Data says he can give you a heads up when the stealth jets have a lock on that Hummer and that will let you know when to fire the Stinger.”

“How is that? You just said that communications will cease.”

“You underestimate the power of those notebooks. Data is downloading a program to your notebook computer. Have you ever heard of Pink Floyd?”

“I have never heard of Pink Floyd.”

“They were an old rock and roll band years ago, one of my favorites. Data says to get out of that Hummer with your Stingers and for you and Spooky to get into the tree line. Set the notebook on the hood of the Hummer where you can see the screen from far away and get one of those Stingers ready to fire because this will happen fast. There is a song called Comfortably Numb that your notebook will be broadcasting to the government jets and helicopters. That will confuse them for a few moments but all the time your little notebook computer will be pinging those fighter jets and tapping into their systems.  In that video there is a big disco ball that comes to life. When you see the disco ball appear on the notebook’s screen is when you must fire the Stinger into the air ahead of the Hummer and then duck. That notebook computer will detect a missile in the air. When that disco ball appears a missile is on the way to the Hummer. You will be on your own when you fire the second Stinger, if you have too. I would wait twenty seconds and fire it blindly because that first stealth pilot’s wing mate will be turning around to check on his buddy. If you get him, then you will have a chance to get home. If you don’t, I can assure you he will be high tailing it back to Nellis to clean out his britches. Your download is complete young lady. We are killing communications. Good luck and maybe by God’s good grace I will see you again in this lifetime.”

Then the screen went blank and was replaced by a music video.

“Great! What the hell is a disco ball?”

Amanda climbed out of the Hummer and one hundred yards away in the distance she could see the red warning lights on top of the gorge bridge.  She figured this spot was as good as any. She started to scramble.

“Spooky, I think we need to hurry!”

Suddenly she could hear the sounds of a jet plane flying low over the high mountains. She couldn’t see the planes but she could hear them. She set the notebook on the hood of the Hummer exposed to the falling snow and opened the door to the rear seat.  She took one of the Stingers out of the back and hooked the remaining weapon on Spooky’s saddle horn. Then she mounted her horse. Looking around briefly she could see through the falling snow and from what available light she had some large boulders resting at the edge of the tree line thirty yards away..

“That’s a convenient place Spooky. It’s a little close to the Hummer but those big boulders should protect us from any explosion I hope. I just hope the plane doesn’t come down on us.”

She arrived at the location and dismounted. It was now snowing more briskly but the wind had calmed to some measure. In the distance she could hear the sounds of many helicopters resonating through the mountains and she could hear the jet planes circling the area high overhead. On the hood of the Hummer she could barely hear the music sounding through the tiny speakers over the sound of the Hummer’s engine. She had set the volume on the notebook computer as loud as it would go.  She watched the seventeen inch screen while the white stallion stood calmly beside her. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for but she knew it would be round on the screen. Overhead she could hear jet engines that at times seemed near and at other times seemed to be fading away. She was sure then that the government planes had located the idling Hummer.  She waited five minutes or more as the music video on the hood of the Hummer continued to play, restarting at the beginning over and over. She kept her eyes focused on the seventeen inch screen not really knowing what a disco ball was and she kept her finger on the trigger of the Stinger missile. The Stinger missile launcher resting on her right shoulder was starting to get heavy.

Suddenly, large explosions echoed through the mountains. To the south of her location she could see bright flashes of light bouncing off the low snow clouds. The ominous rumbling made her feel nervous.

“Uh oh Spooky. I think the government boys just found Eric’s poison.”

She focused her attention on the small computer screen. As the roar of the helicopter explosions increased the music video playing on the notebook suddenly skipped. On screen was a large silver reflective ball.

Amanda only saw the bright white ball on the screen for five seconds when the Hummer blew to pieces violently sending a large orange ball of fire quickly into the air. She never saw the actual missile because it happened so fast. At the moment of the explosion she pulled the trigger on the Stinger launch assemble. The recoil from the launch knocked her backwards to where she landed flat on her back. While falling on her back in the snow she could see a bright orange ball of light turning semi circles in the snow filled air. Then the orange light quickly straightened out and headed north disappearing into the low lying clouds. Three seconds later she heard a large explosion high in the air to the north.

She scrambled to her feet and grabbed the launcher hanging on Spooky’s saddle horn. She rested the second Stinger missile on her right shoulder and waited. For many seconds she heard nothing but the wind. Then suddenly she heard the sound of a jet plane passing close overhead in the clouds. She pulled the trigger once again, except this time she had adjusted her stance to keep from being knocked on her butt.

This time the missile fired in a straight line ahead of her and then quickly turned to the left heading into the clouds. For many seconds she heard nothing. Then she heard another unseen explosion. She threw the launcher to the ground and mounted Spooky. While sitting on the horse she heard a sound that she had never heard before, like a whistling scream. Turning her head to the northwest where the missile disappeared she saw a ball of flame emerging from the low clouds at a forty five degree angle that slammed dead center on Highway Ninety Three one mile away from the burning Hummer to the south. Whatever it was it erupted into a massive ball of flame upon impact.

She sat on her horse for several minutes as a large mushroom cloud rose in the air and then orange flames dominated the lonely highway. The flames were so large they seemed to be touching the bottom of the low clouds.

While sitting on Spooky contemplating her next move she saw a man clad in black float through the bottom of the snow clouds with a parachute. He landed in some tall white pine trees less than fifty yards away from her location. After crashing through many tree limbs he finally came to a stop to hang twenty feet above the ground with his parachute lines hopelessly tangled in the tree limbs. The man had taken a beating falling through the stout branches. She kicked Spooky into a slow walk and rode over to where the pilot was hanging. He had a black helmet on his head bearing a Homeland Security logo and was not moving…at first. He then started to struggle to reach one of his pockets in his flight suit on his lower left leg. He flailed around for a minute hanging helplessly in the air when he finally noticed the woman sitting on the white horse twenty feet away looking up at him.

Amanda had one of her automatic pistols in her right hand and had a bead on the man. She said nothing while sitting on Spooky, just waiting and watching. Finally the pilot started to yell with desperation in his voice.

“Help me! Help me! I think my right arm and my left leg are broken! Help me! I am in pain!” he pleaded.

Amanda immediately noticed the pilot’s accent. He didn’t sound like he was an American.

His body was so broken from the rough landing in the trees that he was unable to remove his helmet.

“You have some nerve, asking for my help after you just tried to kill me you asshole!” she answered.

“I was just obeying my orders!”

“Yeah, I bet you were. Can you speak with your boss with that fancy helmet?”

“Yes, yes I can. Please help me! Call for help! Please! Please! Somebody help me!”

“Really? So you can speak with your commander or whatever the hell he is called? What is the shit head’s name?”

“He is known as the mountain cobra,” the pilot managed to say through his pain.

With his helmet on Amanda could barely hear his voice. Then she heard him say something in a language that wasn’t English.

She fired her pistol zinging a bullet by his head. The pilot began to scream.

“If I hear one more utterance of that foreign gibberish the next bullet is going through your head! Do you understand?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” the man yelled between moans.

There was a moment of no conversation as Amanda was contemplating her next action.

“The mountain cobra wants to know who you are. He also wants me to tell you that having a gun in America is illegal and punishable by death!”

“It is? Fuck! I sure as hell didn’t know that! I guess that I have broken the law! Tell your boss, what was his name again?  Did you say the mountain worm? You tell the mountain worm that I am known as the Pale Rider and his laws don’t apply to the people in these mountains! You are trespassing and in my mountains that is punishable by death!”

The man replied to whoever he was speaking with in broken English. Then he was quiet for a while only moaning on occasion.

“So what did the little worm say?” asked Amanda.

“He says you must help me and cooperate or you will be put to death! There are many Homeland Security forces on the way to rescue me!”

“Tell him I am tired of using a third party to communicate.”

The pilot started to yell all types of phrases in English, mostly conveying the message that he would do anything the woman wanted and to not kill him. He ended his pleas with one sentence.

“I tell you I was only following orders!”

“So am I,” she said.

Then she shot the helpless pilot hanging in the tree several times with her pistol. The pilot’s body went limp swaying slightly in the cold Nevada wind.

She moved Spooky closer the limp man and lifted her snake charmer from a holster on her saddle. She fired five quick shots with the light shotgun cutting the cords of the parachute. The dead man fell the twenty feet to the snow covered ground. He didn’t move after he impacted the ground.

Amanda dismounted and walked over to the pilot keeping her shotgun trained on his body. After kicking him hard in his ribs a few times she placed the snake charmer back in its holster once she determined that the Homeland Security pilot was dead. Then she walked back to his body and unfastened the straps that held his helmet in place. Once she removed the expensive piece of fiberglass and graphite she saw that the pilot was of Middle Eastern descent. Lifting his identification badge she saw that he was from Egypt.

“Fucking foreigner!” she yelled kicking his body once again.

Then she could hear voices emanating from the dead pilot’s helmet.

“This should be good,” she mumbled putting the pilot’s helmet on her head.

Immediately she could hear voices very clearly.

“Hello, I would like to speak with the mountain worm.”

There was silence for a moment although she could hear many voices in the background noise coming through the speakers in the helmet.

“Who is this!” demanded a voice.

“This is the Pale Rider. Who are you?”

“What happened to my pilot!” demanded the voice loudly.

“Abdul? He is busy right now playing with his seventy two virgins I think. I just sent him to meet Allah.”

“I demand that you render assistance to my pilot!”

“Oh listen worm king, he is beyond any help. I just want to let you know that I know where you are in Las Vegas at Nellis Air Force base and I am coming to kill you next unless you leave Nevada you fucking foreign piece of shit. In the meantime until I get there you and your foreign bastard friends better stay out of my mountains and get out of my land. Over and out dickhead!”

“You are dead woman! We have your image, the image of the animal you ride and your name! We will find you and I will be the one to drag your body through the streets of Las…”

Amanda removed the helmet and could hear whoever it was filling the helmet with all types of profanity. She laughed.

“I think you pissed him off Spooky,” she said laughing while turning to the horse.

She mounted Spooky and then turned her horse and headed south. Stopping at the nearby large fire from the crashed jet plane she tossed the helmet in its heart. She sat for several minutes watching the helmet melt.

After the flames subsided from the crashed stealth fighter jet she rode her horse through the remaining burning rubble on Highway Ninety Three. She was in no hurry. The highway was littered with small fires burning everywhere for fifty yards. The falling snow seemed to have no effect on what was in flames.

“Spooky, I kind of like those little missiles, don’t you?” she asked while petting the right side of neck.

She looked around at where her and horse were.

“It is plenty warm here right now but I think we will head down to the intersection for the road to our secondary base. Once we get up the road for a mile or two, I will build us a good warm camp fire for tonight. There are a lot of boulders and trees along that road where we can get warm for the rest of the night. We have a little trip to take for the next two days. No, wait! I see a nice area right over there where we can get comfortable and there is plenty of material lying around here we can use for the fire. Let’s stay here tonight! I don’t think any of the Homeland Security boys will be coming into the mountains tonight, do you? I am sure they know that we got their little flying toys and are willing to use them. I don’t think they have the guts to come looking for anyone, at least in the air,” she asked.

The big white horse shook his head back and forth as if he understood.

The young woman moved her white stallion to a cluster of large boulders that were surrounded by white pine trees that was well hidden from Highway Ninety Three. After a half hour of using the light from the burning fires of the stealth jet fighter and a large camp roll she had fastened on the back of Spooky for this trip she fashioned a makeshift canvas roof using the trees, stout cotton string and some small boulders to keep the snow off of her horse and her for the remainder of the night. She built a campfire between two large boulders that was generating some warmth as the flames from the plane started to die down.

“I have a surprise for you Spooky. Little Johnny made this for you and me as a gift,”

She unrolled a thick insulated horse blanket with a custom made hoodie that covered Spooky’s head and neck. She removed her horse’s saddle and threw the custom heavy duty blanket on Spooky to keep him warm for the night. As she did, she leaned against the big horse’s chest and began to cry softly. Today had been a violent and depressing day that she would remember for the rest of her life.  Even with the shelter and camp fire she figured it was going to be a lonely and long cold night even if the sun was going to be rising in four or five hours.

Amanda threw several more stout thick logs on the campfire. At least in the morning when she crawled out of her warm sleeping bag there would be some hot coals that could easily be stoked to get a roaring campfire going once again. She knew from her training that the coldest part of any day was just as the sun was coming up. In the mountains of Nevada, that was one of the most beautiful moments of the new day and one of the most deadly.

She had just settled into her sleeping bag when she heard hoof beats clopping on Highway Ninety Three.  Sitting up in her sleeping bag she grabbed one of her automatic colts and waited. Looking at Spooky the white stallion seemed unconcerned, pointing his ears in the direction of the sound.

She sat in her sleeping bag patiently waiting to see who her unexpected visitor was.

She could hear someone dismounting a horse hitting the ground lightly.

“Amanda?”

She recognized the voice instantly. The voice belonged to Eric.

“Over here!” she answered.

Eric came around one of the large boulders that anchored her temporary shelter. When she saw the young Cajun she began to cry.

Eric rushed to the young woman and embraced her, holding her for a long moment in his arms.

“That was a crazy stunt you pulled Pale Rider,” he said softly while laughing lightly.

Amanda started to get her emotional feelings under control but just barely.

“I felt like it was something that had to be done. I had already lost Georgia Boy. I didn’t want to see anyone else getting killed.”

“I think I understand for now. It was a brave but crazy thing you did woman. We all thought that you were dead. I am sure Zak is not going to get any sleep tonight.”

“I love that old man. If it wasn’t for him tonight me and Spooky might have gotten killed. He and Data downloaded a program to Big Jimbo’s computer that gave us some warning and he told me what to do with the jet plane and the Stinger. Ugh! You’re all wet! You must be cold!”

“It is snowing hard out there and it is supposed to snow all day. I see you did the things a scout should do out in the wild and stockpiled a lot of firewood to get dry. And it sure looks like Spooky will be warm tonight. Nice threads you spoiled ass horse!  I will stand guard tonight and dry out by the fire while you get some rest.”

“No you won’t! I have a clothesline up by the fire to dry out my clothes and there is plenty of room for your wet clothes too. Get out of those clothes and hang them up to dry!” ordered Amanda.

“That’s the rational thing to do. Let me get my sleeping bag out so I can slip in it to stay warm tonight,” he said standing up.

Amanda grabbed his right hand with both of her hands.

“Hang up those clothes right now Swamp Fox. I have a roomy insulated sleeping bag that is already warm and waiting for you. We can stay warm together. Like the old man always says, a scout is always learning. I learned tonight that life is too short,” she said.

* * * * *

Chapter Fifteen

Making Plans, Getting Ready

Two years and ten months had now passed since FEMA camp 37 had burned to the ground. The United States of America was now experiencing a violent and bloody civil war, much bloodier than the first civil war. All of the government broadcast station’s talking heads were referring to the conflict as the Second Civil War and had branded the Americans wanting to be free of government oppression as terrorists. There was at present several pirate broadcast facilities located in the west deep in the mountains that were spreading the truth. The talking heads on those stations were referring to the violent conflicts as the Second Revolutionary War. Only time would tell what this conflict would be labeled one day.

Because the freedom of speech had been reestablished in the western half of the former United States the focus of what remained of the United States was on this vast area.  There were two names which garnished the population’s attention when it came to media reports. One name was the Liberator. The other was the Pale Rider. A hefty reward was placed on both of these individuals by the federal government.

No one in Homeland Security or their vast intelligence array knew who these two individuals were. There was much speculation but no real proof as to their identities. Everyone in Free America knew who they were but only by their tags. Only the old man and his close knit group of scouts knew their actual names and from where they came from.

During the past two and half years the scout named Scott adopted the tag the Liberator. He was taking his label seriously. He now headed a field command of one thousand experienced scouts and he was a terror in the wilderness out west targeting the Homeland Security forces. He kept his men on the move and was known for hit and run attacks. During the past two years his men had turned the large military bases of the federal government in the west into a patchwork of federal outposts that were heavily guarded, much like it was back in the old wild west days when the Indians were a threat. In Nevada, the only military encampment that remained was Nellis Air Force base outside of Las Vegas. Presently, Las Vegas had become a ghost town like many towns had become in Nevada in the past. Now, what was left was being converted to be used as a prison.

During the past two and half years the scout named Pale Rider instilled the most fear on the enemy. There were rumors amongst the intelligence agencies of what was left of the United States that the Pale Rider was possibly female, but no one knew for sure. All that was known was the terrorist rode a large white stallion and operated alone. The government had gotten so paranoid that orders had been given by Homeland Security and law enforcement agencies through out the western territories to round up any white horses and kill them. To own a white horse meant a FEMA camp stay or a death sentence so many horse ranchers turned their white horses loose to roam the vast areas of the west.

Thirty long months ago the Pale Rider rode with a partner. For one year these two individuals killed hundreds of thousands of government personnel by using poison and the wind as their main weapons. Every thing Homeland Security attempted to do to stop the terrorists met with abysmal failure. The Pale Rider and her mate roamed far and wide in the west for months on end. How they were getting or manufacturing the poison no one knew. The old man back at his secondary base hidden in Nevada knew and the two scouts had his blessing.

Eighteen months ago an event happened that changed the course of the war radically. During an attack on Fort Carson in Colorado it was reported that the Pale Rider had lost his or her partner. Although a body was never recovered a horse with a saddle was. The government media never mentioned that the horse was not white. Carved into the leather saddle was the name Eric. The mainstream media reported this event with great jubilation, reporting that the Pale Rider was also killed and that his name was Eric. No one knew for two weeks if that were true until a poison attack occurred on Camp Pendleton in California, the largest military base the government had in the west. Zak suspected that the Pale Rider had to wait a week until the wind was right, blowing from the east which rarely happened in California. On that day the wind was blowing from the east and the attack occurred at midnight. The results of that single attack by the true Pale Rider was devastating.

The reports from the government stated that two hundred thousand people had died from the type of poison that would kill on contact. They also reported that another two hundred thousand civilians were killed. No one knew for sure but one thing became clear. The Pale Rider now rode for retribution and the price was going to be high for losing her partner.

Since the death of Eric the Pale Rider rode alone, killing with impunity. The Pale Rider primarily focused on military bases and government installations although no government installation was safe. Somehow, the day after the Pendleton attack, the Pale Rider had managed to detonate one of his or her deadly bombs in the IRS building and the Federal Courthouse building in LA County at the same time on the same day, killing thousands of government people as well as civilians. This made the national and international news. The result was more liberties were taken from the people of the United States under the guise of more security.  The Pale Rider was sending the message that if you weren’t willing to fight for your freedom then you didn’t deserve to live.

The government now had a two hundred million government credits bounty on the Pale Rider, dead or alive. There was also a two hundred million government credit placed on the white stallion too, dead or alive. The federal government had a clear picture of the white horse but no clue as to what the rider of the animal looked like.

Zak was sitting in his ready room with his boots on the table smoking a cigarette when Data walked in.

“Well my trusted head geek, did she answer your email?”

“This time she did! She said she will head our way after she takes care of business at the Laughlin Air Force base!”

“She is down in Texas? I thought she was roaming around in Missouri!”

“So did I! She allowed me to ping her location. She is in Texas!”

“Damn! You send her another message and tell her I need her here in one week and that it is important!”

Data, who always carried a clipboard, scribbled on a sheet of paper.

“Where is the big man?”

“Scott? He is up near Reno, just like you ordered.”

“Oh yeah.  I remember. He is up by Lovelock and that little FEMA camp 38. Tell him to drop what he is doing and for him and his men to head back to the secondary base pronto!”

“Will do boss! Is there anything else?”

“Where are Ringo and Little Jimbo?”

“I saw them riding out of the stable this morning into the Valley of Freedom. They both were carrying flower pots. I think they were rose stocks to be planted. I am sure they were headed to Georgia Boy’s grave,” answered Data softly.

“All right. When they get back send them to my ready room. I have to discuss some plans with them.”

“When was the last time you went to the graveyard?”

Zak removed his boots from the table and sat upright.

“It has been awhile, since last October when the snow started to fall.”

“You should go take a ride. It is spring time and the valley looks spectacular.”

“I don’t know about that. We are getting a lot of white headstones out in that valley. It is kind of depressing to me.”

“I understand. I will get these messages to Scott and Amanda. I will instruct Johnny to let me know when Ringo and Little Jimbo return.”

“Johnny didn’t go with them?”

“No. He goes everyday though when the sun first rises. Ringo and Little Jimbo told me that he is turning into a full blown scout. He changed when Georgia Boy was killed.”

“Yeah, we all changed that day.”

“Are you going to allow him to ride one of these days?” asked Data.

“I don’t know!”

“He is now seventeen. Next week he turns eighteen. You know the rules. After all, they are your rules.”

“Don’t you have some chores to do?” asked Zak glaring at the computer scientist.

Data quickly exited the ready room.

Zak continued to wait in his ready room using his notebook to surf on the events of the day that were happening in the world. The channel he was focused on for the moment was the one where he had executed the news anchor live on screen almost three years ago. He laughed when he saw two heavily armed guards carrying automatic weapons in the background on the live news set.

“We are happy to report that Las Vegas is starting to recover from what happened almost three years ago and that our city shows some promise for the future. FEMA camp 37 is on schedule to be reopened in two weeks and that is good for our economy. There will be a grand reopening ceremony in which the leaders of the New World Order will be in attendance to show that they are united in the effort to reestablish the United States of America as a world power. The head of the United Nations, International Monetary Fund, the Middle East as well as many leaders of the European Union will be in attendance. We have no word if the President will be here but we imagine he will be but so far that has not been confirmed. Security is tight but we have been assured by Homeland Security that everything will go as planned. We have also been informed that many leaders from South America will be in attendance. I think this civil war is about to come to an end finally.”

Zak laughed.

“And there is some more good news for the Las Vegas valley. The federal government has allocated another round of funding for the construction of the prison that is to be built around the vacant buildings on the Strip. The wall is nearly completed and staffing will be occurring next month. To apply for one of those high paying federal jobs go to the North Las Vegas Federal building starting Monday. The government released figures that project one hundred thousand jobs will be created to run the Sin City prison and the rebuilt FEMA camp.”

“A job with a death sentence, I just keep wondering where they find these traitors,” muttered Zak.

Zak continued to surf the government and foreign net for the next hour. He found that several foreign news stations were opining that many foreign governments were wondering if the civil war in America was worth the effort. A lot of economic damage had been done all over the world and a lot of people had been killed in the United States during the past three years.

Finally Ringo and Little Jimbo entered the ready room.

Both scouts sat down at the round table near Zak.

“How are things in the valley?” asked Zak.

“Peaceful. There are a lot of headstones in the valley at this end. I enjoy the ride,” said Little Jimbo.

“We planted a couple of rose bushes at Georgia Boy’s head stone. Of all the head stones in the valley that one is the cleanest and brightest. Plus there are a lot of shrubs nearby that will be flowering once spring gets in full swing.”

“Is that little Johnny’s work?” asked Zak.

Both scouts nodded their heads yes without saying a word.

“So how are things going in the rest of the country?” asked Little Jimbo.

“In some areas things are going pretty well and in others not so well. The resistance groups in the northeast are having a rough time mostly because of all the damn foreigners interfering in our country. Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico and Texas are getting the upper hand on the feds. Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, North and South Dakota are doing well too. I imagine that is because of the rough terrain and the federal government figures there is nothing there that is worth dying for, monetarily speaking. What has become surprising is the fringe states.”

“What are the fringe states?”

“The fringe states are Missouri, Kansas and Arkansas. They are getting aggressive with the feds.”

“What about the South?” asked Little Jimbo.

Zak laughed.

“That part of the country is well on their way to freedom. They have already formed a government and are fighting back like hell. It seems most of the enlisted men in those states decided that enough was enough and have joined the struggle. I am sure the feds are worried. Tennessee ain’t that far away from Washington D.C. Hell, those southern boys even took out the Cuban government in one week. If you ever told me when I was younger that Cuba would become a part of any government on the mainland I would have said you were doing drugs. I was online to the head of the southern nation yesterday  and he told me they are getting ready to trounce a few of those nations who have been sending troops to help kill our citizens using some of the war ships that they now control. The feds won’t mess with them because some of those boats have nuclear missiles. I must say this revolution is getting interesting. I think by next month Free America will become a nation too.”

“So where do we stand?” asked Ringo.

“We stand like we always stood Ringo. Fighting to be free. The President of the southern states and the Governor of Texas thanked me for our action with FEMA camp 37 three years ago. We were the only operation out of eight that had any success that day but it was a start and an inspiration to all people in this country that wanted to be free. Plus both of them thanked me for our recent help, especially the Governor of Texas.”

“They thanked us for our recent help? When did we do that?” asked Little Jimbo.

“They thanked me for loaning them the Pale Rider.”

“I didn’t know about that!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“Don’t feel bad son. Neither did I. It seems she went down to Texas a year ago and took out Fort Hood, Fort Bliss and Fort Sam Houston in the span of one week using her deadly poison. I managed to, or I should say the geeks managed to supply her during that time. One week later she went to Louisiana to visit what was left of Eric’s family and before she left she wiped out the Barksdale Air Force base and a place called Fort Polk, which I had never heard of. On her way back she took care of Fort Chaffee and the Little Rock Air Force base in Arkansas. She also liberated the Pine Bluff Arsenal for the resistance movement in that state. She has been one busy lady. Eventually, we are going to lose her one of these days I think but she knows how to get around on that white stallion without being seen. She is like a ghost.”

“I would like to see her again before something like that happens,” said Little Jimbo.

“Well, that may happen. I just ordered her to come home for this operation.”

“Are we speaking of FEMA camp 37?” asked Ringo

“That is what I am talking about! Do we have our explosives in place?”

“It’s taken my boys two years to place them but I believe we are ready. Have you seen the rebuilt FEMA camp?”

“Yep. I looked at some of the satellite photos Data gave me. The place looks about the same.”

“Almost, except for larger and taller walls. Plus there are a lot more guard towers and sensors. Did you see the new compound housing the Homeland Security forces?”

“I sure did. It is as big as FEMA camp 37.”

“We don’t have any explosives around that compound. Data informed me that there are sixty thousand troops stationed at that outpost. That compound is less than five hundred yards away from FEMA camp 37 and there must be forty helicopters sitting on the tarmac at any time,” said Ringo.

“Yeah, I wish we had the time to place some of those obscure desert rocks around the area but we have run out of time. The federal government is gonna’ use FEMA camp 37’s dedication ceremony as a propaganda photo op for the rest of the world. We are going to give them something to remember.”

“No matter what the cost?” asked Little Jimbo.

“We have already paid that bill. Now it is their turn.”

“You know the security it tight, real tight. They have all sorts of new sensors and bomb sniffing dogs on the prowl.”

“Do you think they will be able to sniff out some of your desert boulders or rocks?”

“Not a chance. Doc and Todd got together and made some concoction that we used in the stucco mix. They said they dogs won’t like it but they won’t sit down when they get a whiff.”

“So Amanda will be joining us?” asked Little Jimbo.

The young man was eager to see Amanda once again.

“I hope so. You know how she is. She keeps our communications short and to the point. Most of the time the transmission is taken up by her instructing me to tell you guys that she loves you all very much. I reckon she will show up or at least I am hoping”

“You never told me that!” said Little Jimbo.

“Me either!” said Ringo.

“Good grief! Don’t let it go to your head guys!”

Ringo and Little Jimbo looked at each other uneasily.

“What about Scott?” asked Little Jimbo.

“The Liberator? He probably loves you guys too.”

“Come on Zak! I wasn’t talking about that!”

The old man laughed.

“You can count on Scott to be here with his men. Sixty thousand federal troops against one thousand experienced scouts. That sounds like a toss up to me. Scott has devised a good plan. If we can get the freed FEMA inmates to the tree line past the Nightmare Trail fork there will be a hundred men waiting with Stinger missiles to greet anyone chasing them.”

“How many FEMA inmates do you think will join us this time?” asked Little Jimbo.

“I don’t really know. This time they will be newly transferred FEMA inmates so they won’t be so comfortable with their lifestyle. Hopefully, maybe we will get a couple of hundred or more. What do you think?”

“The last time we only got seventeen or eighteen,” mumbled Ringo.

“That’s true! But what a haul! In that batch we got the Pale Rider and the Liberator. I am looking for quality, not quantity. Always have, always will.”

* * * * *

Chapter Sixteen

FEMA camp 37 Revisited

Scott rolled out of his cot and shut off his battery powered alarm clock. At first he was a little confused because he was groggy from a deep sleep. Yesterday was a long day. Then he remembered he was in an underground bunker, the same bunker he had spent one night in his life three years ago to the day. He was in the old mine bunker that he had stayed in during his first night of freedom.

He looked around in the dimly lit room with rock walls and saw Ringo with Little Jimbo sitting at one of the folding tables munching on some chips and drinking some cool water. There were also a few more men sitting at tables doing the same. Most were carrying AK47s slung on their backs.

“You slept well once you hit the sack big man, considering what we are gonna’ go through today. I was tossing and turning all night long,” said Little Jimbo.

“Me too! Even though it is nice and cool in here I was breaking out with the sweats during the night. This raid is making me more nervous than the one three years ago,” said Ringo.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know why! That is why I am nervous!”

“Maybe it’s because the old man stayed up by the Passageway of Faith,” answered Scott.

“That could be the reason. Zak is getting too old to be humping it on foot through these ravines,” answered Ringo.

“Are all our guys in position and ready to go?”

“Everyone is waiting for the dedication ceremony and ready to go. The guys up the ravine are ready with the Stingers at strategic spots and the guys in the tree line are ready for action, if we get that far. Maybe that’s why I’m nervous. This operation isn’t gonna’ be like the last one. That time we waited for a day and moved at night. This time this thing is gonna’ happen in broad daylight with sixty thousand troops just five hundred yards away. Maybe that’s why I am nervous!” exclaimed Ringo.

“We didn’t have the weapons like we have now,” said Scott.

“No we didn’t and we didn’t have as many scouts. If we get just twenty FEMA prisoners we might have a chance but if we get more I just don’t know. That is really gonna’ slow us down if a lot of inmates decide to run to freedom,” said Little Jimbo.

“Zak and I discussed that. He thinks we will be lucky to get a hundred people willing to run for their freedom but we should have time because there will be a pressing diversion that will need Homeland Security’s immediate attention. When those rocks under that big platform explode a lot of important people are gonna’ need swift medical attention.”

“That is unless the blast kills them all instantly,” said Ringo.

“Well, how much plastic explosive did you place around the FEMA camp Ringo?”

“I placed a lot more than I did last time. Plus Doc was the one who figured how much we were gonna’ need.”

Ringo and Little Jimbo looked at each other.

“I know, I know. Doc has made mistakes before.”

Both scouts nodded their heads yes.

“Do you have the trail mined?” asked Scott.

“I mined the trail right where you told me to mine the trail, where Janie and Emily are holed up with eight of the Stingers. That is the spot where the ravine gets deep and narrow.”

“And we have an additional sixteen scouts holed up going up the trail with Stingers and RPG’s?” continued Scott with his questions.

“That is correct. I hope that will be enough. It doesn’t sound like it if sixty thousand men are chasing after you wanting to kill you,” said Ringo.

“No, it doesn’t. At least the Stingers will bring down the first choppers in the air and will make them think about dispatching any more…I hope,” said Scott.

“I sure wish Eric was here with those poison bombs of his. The wind is blowing in the right direction,” said Little Jimbo.

“Eric has gone to meet our maker. I hope the wind doesn’t pick up and blow away our smoke cover. The last time we did this raid we had good smoke cover because there was no wind,” said Ringo.

“I sure thought Amanda would be here to help us out. She uses those poison bombs like Eric used to,” said Little Jimbo.

“Zak told me last night that he hasn’t heard a word from her. She might have got herself killed,” said Scott.

“Well, I am going to try to take a nap before all hell breaks loose. Wake me up at eleven, Little Jimbo,” said Ringo.

“I sure will.”

“I am going to go outside and take a peek to see what is going on. I keep hearing choppers flying overhead and that makes me nervous,” said Scott.

The big man walked out of the familiar underground bunker passing by two of his trusted scouts guarding the entrance. The sun was up and shining brightly. It was going to be a warm day. He climbed up the side of the rock ravine to where he could peek over the edge looking through some brush. He could clearly see the newly constructed FEMA camp. From this position he was on the wrong side to see the temporary stage that had been built for the dedication ceremony. He did see numerous two man patrols walking around the perimeter of the tall wall. Back when he was busted out of FEMA camp 37 there were no Homeland Security or FEMA guards on patrol walking along the outside perimeter. He counted thirty eight guards on the east side of the camp that were visible.

On the main road to the FEMA camp he could see cars, limousines and trucks coming and going. The shoddy road that once existed leading from Las Vegas to the FEMA camp was now a four lane highway complete with street lighting. The federal government had poured the money into the rebuilding of FEMA camp 37. It was reputed to be the most secure FEMA camp in the nation next to FEMA camp 43 which was also in Nevada.

In the distance he could see the fifty foot tall prison wall that now circled the Las Vegas Strip. The wall ran just south of old downtown Las Vegas, just on the other side of the Federal Building located just one block from the Freemont Street Experience;  The big wall ran east and west for several miles and then curved to the south. It looked out of place but it was real. He had heard that the world famous Strip was now a ghost town, soon to be populated by hard core criminals from all over the country to save the government money. He wondered why FEMA had not bothered to kill the hard core criminals in America but he let the thought pass. Now was not the time to think about politics.

Using his binoculars he could see the ridge where he, the old man and Amanda had watched the Stratosphere falling to the ground three years ago. The ridge was a long ways away. The Stratosphere was never rebuilt because there was no money after the civil war got underway.

He was beginning to have some serious doubts about his plan but it was too late now. Even if everyone from Free America got killed at least a message would be sent to the world that the Free Americans would not go down without a fight.

He went back inside the underground bunker and sat down on his cot. He finally reclined and took a relaxing nap. Before he went to sleep he thought of the Pale Rider and wished she was here to help.

* * * * *

Zak was sitting on a boulder by a small campfire at the fork to the Nightmare Trail sipping on a cup of coffee and using his notebook computer.  Old Doc was sitting on his one wheeled cart doing the same. They both were a good two miles from the tree line where Scott had assigned three hundred men to hide in the woods with eighty stinger missiles. The majority of Scott’s men that were assigned to this area were carrying automatic assault rifles and rocket propelled grenade launchers on their shoulders. The goal for the operation was to get as many FEMA inmates to the mountain forest and to safety today.

“It’s getting near eleven o’clock son,” said Doc.

“So?”

“I just thought I would let you know Mister Touchy about something.”

“Sorry Pop. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Old Doc looked at his computer for a few more minutes and then looked up at his son.

“Do you ever get the feeling that someone is watching you?”

“Yeah, sometimes I do. I haven’t had a feeling like that in a long time.”

“I just feel like something or someone is watching us! Maybe it is that mountain lion we released here three years ago!”

“Maybe, but I doubt it.”

Suddenly the two men heard a voice from the small rock plateau at the entrance to the Passageway of Faith.

“Bang, bang! Both of you old codgers are dead!”

Zak turned and looked up the steep incline to the plateau at the head of the narrow trail. At the top was the Pale Rider on her horse Spooky.

The young woman eased her white stallion down the gravel covered trail and stopped in front of Zak. She deftly slid off her horse and hit the ground with both feet. Walking up to the old man she embraced him for a long moment.

“I have missed you old man,” she said softly while resting her head on his right shoulder.

“We all have missed you too,” he replied softly while returning her embrace.

“Hey! What about me? Don’t I get a hug?” exclaimed Doc.

The woman walked over to Doc sitting in his one wheeled cart and gave him a firm embrace. Doc, who rarely grinned, had a grin on his wrinkled face that was ear to ear.

“You look good woman. Your hair is starting to get long. You have been gone awhile,” said Zak.

“It has been a long ride. Do you like my hair being longer?”

“It looks good.”

“I never did like those FEMA haircuts. So the party begins in one hour?”

“Yes. Did you ride across the Nightmare Trail and through the Passageway of Faith to get here?”

“Yes I did. That was two days ago.”

“You have been here two days?” asked Zak.

“That’s what I said. I was bedded down for the night at the entrance to the Passageway of Faith hoping to catch Little Jimbo or maybe Ringo coming off the Nightmare Trail but that didn’t happen. I have been watching you two all morning long. You both are starting to get sloppy out in the woods.”

Then she laughed. Doc laughed too. Zak was not laughing.

“So what have you been doing for the last two days?”

“I have been doing my job. I have been performing the duties of a Free America scout. I am trying to save my friends lives.”

“Swell. I know more about what you have been doing for the last two and half years then what you have been doing for the last two days. That sounds to me like the Amanda that I know. You certainly have been riding a rough trail the last two and half years. The federal government and even most of my new scouts call it the trail of death.”

“That doesn’t surprise me old man. There has been a lot of dying where ever I ride. Spooky and I call it the trail of freedom and it winds all over the west. Have you noticed that once those government military bases have been put out of operation all the nearby FEMA camps suddenly become free? There are a lot of brave Americans in this country that hate the federal government and all they needed was a little help.”

“All they needed was a little help young lady? Do you know how many federal troops, military men and government people you have killed the last two and a half years? There is a two hundred million government credit out on you as a bounty, dead or alive! I think that is one credit for every government person you have killed!”

“Actually, that picture on the bounty poster is Spooky,” she said. The she giggled as the white stallion snorted and shook his head up and down as if agreeing with his rider.

“That is a good picture of Spooky! It looks just like him! The poor horse! He ain’t done a damn thing except carry you!” exclaimed Doc.

“They put out that picture on the government channels the day after Georgia Boy was killed. Didn’t you know that jet fighter pilot you executed had a camera in his helmet that night? That video of what you did was on the three government broadcast channels for weeks after that,” said Zak.

“That was great for public relations. The citizens of America found out whose side I was on. I have met thousands of good people out in the country these past two and half years who have fed me and sheltered me and Spooky for a night or two. They have shared their stories, hopes and dreams with me. It has been a good ride overall.”

“What is with the guitar on Spooky’s bedroll?” asked Doc.

“I have learned to play the guitar. Eric was really well versed on the instrument and he got me started when we rode together. We got the instrument the first month we started to ride together from a farmer up by Elko. It is nice to have when you are out in the mountains by yourself in the middle of nowhere at night with nothing to do. Spooky likes to hear me play. I had Data download the music of the band you used to save me that night from the jet plane after the raid that killed Georgia Boy and I have been trying to play along with them when I am out in the mountains. I have gotten pretty good with it and this too.”

She took a mouth harp out of her pocket.

“That looks like Little Jimbo’s mouth harp,” said Zak.

“It is. He was playing that afternoon on the day of the convoy raid. I like to play it when I start getting depressed out in the mountains thinking about what has happened in the past. It is good therapy. You would be amazed at how music has become a part of rural folk’s lives. After all, there is nothing on the broadcast channels anymore.”

“No, nothing but commercials with you and Spooky’s picture and information on what you have to do to make two hundred million credits. I am surprised you haven’t been turned in by some rat fink. Has that ever happened to you?”

“It happened one time. That was during the first month Eric and I started to ride together when we stopped at a remote farm near Elko. It was snowing hard so a farmer offered us to stay in his horse barn for the night which was heated. He knew who we were because of Spooky. So did his three teen aged kids and his wife. The whole family was very friendly and supportive of our actions. They fed us supper and spent some time with us in their living room telling us about their lives.  Eric and I got comfortable in the warm barn for the night when the farmer’s only son woke us up. He said his Uncle Ricky had left fifteen minutes earlier and he suspected he was going into to Elko to tell the Homeland Security officer and the Elko police station that we were at the farm to get the reward.”

Then Amanda paused looking at her wrist watch.

“Well? What happened,” asked Zak.

“While Eric got the horses ready to leave I went into the family home with the oldest son and woke up his father to inform him. He got very angry about his brother and his wife even angrier. I told them that no matter if we got away the whole family was probably going to wind up in a FEMA camp or even get killed by Uncle Ricky’s uncaring behavior. So they decided to flee their home to join Free America that night. They had plenty of horses in the barn. It took us a while to saddle the horses and for every one to get dressed for the brutal weather.”

Amanda looked at her wrist watch again.

“And?” asked Zak.

“Eric and I were surprised when their father came to the barn with an AK47 slung across his back. Just as we exited the barn we could see six large SUV’s with blue lights flashing coming down the snow covered road in the distance. The farm was ten miles away from the town of Elko and ten miles away from the mountains which was where we were headed. The six Elko cop cars were being followed by Uncle Ricky in his beat up truck. Eric told me to take the family and head for the mountains. He said that he would take care of the Elko police department. I knew he couldn’t use any of his poison bombs because the wind was swirling and unpredictable. I knew there was going to be a gunfight. As Eric left the father left with him. He was adamant about helping Eric and there was no time to argue. I was very worried about Eric. While moving our horses across a big snow covered pasture we could hear the gunfight. There was a lot of gunfire. I could hear pistol fire and shotgun blasts but mostly it was automatic gunfire from two AK47s and the fight easily lasted ten minutes or so. Eric caught up to us two hours later and he was carrying an extra AK47. The father of the family had gotten killed but he had died a hero. We escorted them to the tunnel at the secondary base and left. I guess they are still at your base.”

“What happened to Uncle Ricky?” asked Doc.

“Eric said he fled in his truck when the gunfire started. I reckon he got away.”

“I know what family you are talking about. They told us all about what happened. That oldest son is now a scout that acts just like you. He is the one called the Reaper and he has been riding alone terrorizing the federal government in California for the past two years, He now carries his father’s AK47,” said Zak.

“I have heard of him! So that young kid became the Reaper?” asked Amanda.

“That’s him. His sisters are two of our top computer scientists too. Thank you for bringing them to the secondary base.”

Amanda sat on Spooky with a look of sadness on her face.

“I gotta’ go old man. I have to cover for Scott’s flawed plan.”

“What do you mean by that young lady?”

Zak was starting to steam a little.

“I have gotten pretty good on that little computer I carry. I have two of them now. I hacked into Scott’s notebook and lifted his plan for the FEMA camp raid. I just enhanced his plan, tweaked it a little bit. You know what I mean. He is a lot like you but his wing it plans are a bit more organized than one of your typical plans.”

“That’s real funny!”

Doc was really laughing now.

Amanda mounted Spooky.

“That horse has served you well hasn’t he? He has a few scars on his butt.”

“Yeah, I have stitched him up a few times. Spooky and I have been all over the west the last two years. I gotta’ go now!”

Zak scrambled to get on his horse, leaving his computer on a boulder.

“I am going with you!” he exclaimed.

Amanda had a frown on her face.

“First of all, you should never leave your computer! I remember someone telling me one time that the notebook would be your best friend out in the wilderness. He was right. Second of all I don’t need you to slow me and Spooky down.”

Zak dismounted his horse and picked up his notebook. As he got back on his horse he spoke.

“You would shoot my damn horse to slow me down wouldn’t you?”

“I was thinking about doing that but I love horses so I was thinking about shooting you instead. Doc is right here to sew you up!”

“Okay, how about me going with you to the place on the ridge where you missed the Stratosphere falling?”

“You ain’t never going to let me forget that are you?” exclaimed Amanda.

“No. Never. I will accompany you like the gentleman I am to the ridge. From there we can watch to see what is happening.”

“You can go that far old man but I plan on doing more than just being a damn spectator!” she said as she lightly nudged Spooky’s flanks.

The white stallion took off at a full gallop. The old man had to spur his horse to follow her. After twenty minutes of riding at a full gallop the two freedom fighters arrived at the ridge.

Taking out her binoculars she viewed the FEMA camp and nearby military compound.

“There are more helicopters today than there was yesterday.”

“You have been doing some scouting?”

Amanda laughed.

“Scott and some of his men passed right by me and Spooky the night before. They moved down the trail on foot less than ten feet away and never saw us. I thought about scaring the shit out of them then I thought better. I didn’t know any of the new scouts and I was worried that they might have itchy fingers.”

She continued to watch using her binoculars.

“It looks like the big wigs are arriving. There must be at least forty limos cruising down the new four lane highway. It won’t be long now before the party starts.”

“Please tell me what you have planned!” ordered Zak.

“Okay,” she said sweetly.

“Scott is gonna’ need a diversion, a serious diversion. That is gonna’ be me. Those government boys know what Spooky looks like. There are wanted posters all over the west with his picture which is pretty funny when you think about it. A horse with a two hundred million government credits reward on his head dead or alive. The damn government doesn’t have enough money to buy my horse.  I am planning on giving them a good look at Spooky before I kill them all…hopefully.”

“What?”

“You just promise me to wait right here Zachariah until I get back!”

Zak had never heard the woman call him by his full name. The last time someone called him by his full name was his mom decades ago. She used to use his full name when he was in trouble.

“Promise me! I can’t be losing you too! Riding with me will get you killed!”

Zak could tell that Eric’s death was still weighing heavy on her soul.

“Okay. I promise but if I see you in trouble I will come to bail you out.”

Amanda laughed.

“I’m not the one in trouble old man! Those government boys are the ones who will be in trouble!”

She lowered the binoculars to hang from her neck.

“I believe it is show time.”

“How did you arrive at that conclusion?”

“While you and Doc were playing with your notebooks and sipping coffee in front of the Passageway of Faith I emailed Scott and told him to look for me on the ridge we were on when the Strat fell. When he could see me with a flag in my hands would be the time that all the big wigs from the foreign governments as well as hopefully some of our own would be on the temporary stage in front of the FEMA camp. When I waved the flag would be the time to light up the place. Where Scott is at in the ravine handicaps him from seeing what is happening on the other side of the FEMA camp. I will be his eyes temporarily. Then I will be his Pale Rider.”

Amanda pulled out a collapsible fiberglass stick. Once she had it assembled it was ten feet in length. From her front saddle bag she produced a three foot by six foot flag.

“Where did you get that and whose flag is it?” asked Zak.

“Eric’s Momma made it for him but never sent it to Nevada. She didn’t know where her son was.”

Amanda unfurled the flag and attached it to the end of the ten foot stick. It was a bright red flag with the image of a coiled rattlesnake on both sides. In the upper left hand corner on a two foot square blue field was the words Free America in white letters.

“Pretty snazzy for a hand sewn flag don’t you think?”

The young woman kicked Spooky’s flanks and the horse climbed up the bank of the ravine to stand on top of the ridge. The ridge was one of the highest points in the Las Vegas Valley.

Zak scrambled to focus his binoculars on the large crowd on the temporary stage and on the ground. The number of people was well into the tens of thousands. He could see many flags mounted on the front of the black limousines, flags from countries that he didn’t know a thing about. He could see security personnel carrying automatic weapons circling the large stage. He could also see the large landscape rocks against the wall of the new FEMA camp. They were less than thirty yards away from the back of the temporary platform.

Immediately Zak could see people sitting on the stage turning their heads and pointing in the Pale Rider’s direction where she and her horse were standing on the ridge with the flag in her hand. He could see men in uniforms suddenly running around as if in panic mode. Three helicopters parked nearby the large stage started to spin their blades. When she had everyone’s attention was when the woman waved the Free America flag back and forth.

Five seconds later there was an initial large explosion that could easily be heard on the ridge. The large explosion was followed by several more equally as large explosions spaced at one second intervals. There were seven large explosions in total followed by many smaller ones. Smoke started to rise from the back side of FEMA camp 37 where Scott was waiting in the desert ravine he was in three years ago.

Zak watched with his binoculars as dirt, rocks, large pieces of wood, chairs and bodies flew several hundred feet into the air landing hundreds of feet away from the FEMA camp and where the temporary stage once existed. A massive circular cloud of desert dust and smoke accelerated away from the FEMA camp swallowing everything in its path. A large mushroom shaped cloud of smoke and dust started to arise high into the blue Nevada sky. The shock wave from the first explosion could be felt where Amanda and Spooky were standing. The old man could feel the strong concussion down in the ditch. The sound of the explosions continued to reverberate off the nearby mountains for many seconds. For several minutes nothing could be seen but a massive brown cloud of dust and smoke. The military compound was blocked from the old man’s view. Amanda and Spooky continued to stay on the ridge not moving.

After several minutes Amanda thrust the flag pole into a crack in the top of the ridge. She sat on Spooky as if waiting…for something.

From below Zak could hear the sharp retorts of a lot of automatic gunfire and the wail of warning sirens.

“That sounds like our AK47s,” said Zak.

“It is hard to tell because the sounds are so faint but there is a gun fight going on down there somewhere, probably in the escape ravine. In another ten minutes the wind will have blown away a lot of the dust and smoke, enough where we can see what has happened and what is going on. I think Doc and Ringo used too much explosives…again.”

“Yeah…maybe so.”

It took ten minutes for the air to start clearing and even then visibility was only a hundred yards or so. But it was enough to see four attack helicopters headed through the settling cloud of dust in Amanda’s direction. They were still four or five miles away and the young woman held her ground.

“Uh Amanda! Amanda! It is time to haul ass!” yelled Zak.

“I will give Scott and his scouts another thirty seconds to get the FEMA inmates who fled into the desert ravine headed in the right direction.”

The young leader was looking at her wrist watch.

She had not even completed her sentence when four Stinger missiles fired out from desert ravines in the bottom of the valley to her left. The small rockets were quick…and deadly. The four FEMA helicopters exploded violently in mid air, crashing in a ball of flame to the desert floor.

“That will make them think about getting off the ground for a little while. Oh my God! Do you see what I see Zak? There are more than a thousand FEMA inmates running up our escape ravine to the far left! Shit! There are more than a thousand!”

Zak swung his binoculars to his left and focused. Coming up the ravine as fast as he could run was Ringo, leading the way for a long column of jumpsuit clad inmates who were right on his tail.

“Holy shit! The ones in front might make it but the ones bringing up the rear are dead meat! Look at the ravines running parallel to our escape route!  Every one of them has Hussein guardsmen in the bottom headed this way! There are thousands of them!”

He looked away from his binoculars just in time to see the woman on her white horse gallop down the main escape trail in the direction of the fleeing inmates. At the same time four more Homeland Security helicopters started to move in the direction of the ravines easing through the smoke and dust.

Immediately four more Stinger missiles shot from somewhere in the escape ravine to his left connecting on the four helicopters with the same result as what happened before. The old man watched the four burning balls of crumpled metal impact on the desert floor, creating four large explosions and sending more smoke and dust in the air.

Zak counted seven columns of Hussein guardsmen moving through almost every available large ravine. He could hear a large amount of automatic machine gun fire echoing from the far left ditch. It soon became clear to him that some of his scouts had engaged the enemy who had selected the escape ravine.

Suddenly he saw the Pale Rider emerge from the far left escape ravine where the FEMA inmates were scrambling with Spooky running at a full gallop on the desert floor. On her left were the FEMA inmates led by Ringo moving fast up the escape trail. On her right was a deep ditch full of Hussein guardsmen. Using his high powered binoculars he could see Amanda dropping small canisters into the ditch on her right as she blazed by above them on the flat terrain.

“Amanda! No!” he yelled.

The wind was blowing in the same direction she was traveling. He was fearful that one whiff of the green gas would mean instant death for his scout and her horse.

He watched as the young woman on her white horse of death arrived at the end of the right ravine just as green gas started to fill the ditch with the Hussein Guard. She reined the big animal to her right and watched with amazement as the horse jumped the deep ravine and headed west jumping two more deep wide ditches.

Then she headed back in his direction dropping her deadly poison frequently into the ditches on her right and left. As she arrived well ahead of the now dying Hussein troops in the two ditches a small Bell attack helicopter erupted from the cloud of dust flying low to the ground chasing her and her white horse. He watched as the pilot engaged his machine gun. He could see the dust impact the desert floor headed in Amanda’s direction. Suddenly the young woman and the horse disappeared into a deep ditch moments before a trail of bullets traced across the sand covered floor. Zak lowered his binoculars and could see Amanda charging the big white animal in the bottom of the ravine that she had dropped into.

As the small attack helicopter turned to make another pass a Stinger missile fired from his left connected on the fast helicopter. The chopper blew up just feet off the desert floor. Now there were several fires burning in the tinder box of desert scrub between FEMA camp 37 and the mountain he was standing on. He turned to see Amanda once again attain the high ground and charge alongside the ravine she had skipped, once again dropping her small green cans of poison on the Hussein guard moving along the bottom. Zak could see the government troops from his vantage point grabbing their throats and falling to the floor of the deep ditch, rolling around in pain trying to get air.

Zak focused on the last two columns of troops and they had stopped advancing, cowering in the bottom of the two ravines that were far away from the true escape route. Zak looked for Amanda and Spooky but couldn’t locate them because of the thick white smoke hovering and slowly moving across the desert floor towards the burning FEMA camp.

On the escape route at its very beginning where a battle was raging he saw a cloud of green gas drift upward from where the gun fire seemed to be coming. Suddenly it was quiet. He could hear no gunfire.

It took ten more minutes for Ringo to arrive at the ridge where the old man was sitting on his horse. He had had a front row seat to the battle. Ringo was breathing heavy but he kept the FEMA escapees moving in the direction of the Nightmare Trail not saying a word to the old man. A constant stream of inmates ran by the old man following Ringo.

He watched as eight more helicopters rose from the military compound and headed in his direction. This time eight Stinger missiles connected on their targets sending more smoke and dust into the air. Then he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“We have got to move these people Zak! We don’t have many stingers left!”

He turned to see Calamity Jane and the Black Widow, bent over with their hands on their knees trying to catch their breath. Each of the women was carrying two of the heavy Stinger missiles slung on their backs.

“Both of you take my horse and head up the trail. Tell Doc to get some boys with some Stingers to meet us at the hard pan plateau. That is where they may try to cut us off! Good job you two!”

“Was that the Pale Rider I saw blazing by above us on the desert floor?” gasped Janie.

“That was her,” answered Zak.

“Thank God! The Hussein Guard had us flanked and we wouldn’t have made it! We ain’t going anywhere until we are sure she is okay. That was the bravest thing I ever saw in my life! There was bullets flying everywhere over our heads! They were trying to shoot her out of the saddle!” exclaimed Emily.

“Okay. We will wait right here for her! Give me one of those Stingers in case we need them,” said the old man.

“I don’t know how many Stingers we have left. Scott and Little Jimbo had a few. These are the last four we have. We connected on every shot! If the feds send for help from Nellis we are in trouble!” exclaimed Janie.

Finally after five more minutes the last of the FEMA inmates ran by the old man and his two female scouts. Bringing up the rear was Scott, Little Jimbo and four of Scott’s scouts. Blood was oozing out of Scott’s right shoulder.

“You have been shot boy!” yelled Zak.

“They just winged me. That was a hell of a gun battle me and Little Jimbo was in! These four guys of mine fell back to help but even with them I thought we were dead. Then we saw a white flash above our heads and a canister drop into the floor of the ravine between us and the Hussein Guard. Then we saw the green gas! We knew what that meant so we ran like hell! Nobody followed us after that! Where is Amanda?”

“I dunno! The last time I saw her she was at the end of the ditch you guys were in! I saw her drop the poison but then I lost sight of her,” said Zak.

“I am going back to find her,” said Little Jimbo.

As if on cue the big white stallion crested the ridge and carefully navigated to the bottom of the mountain ravine to stand behind Scott and Little Jimbo.

The two female scouts rushed over to Amanda who leaned off of Spooky and each of the women gave her a quick hug.

“Long time no see sweetie. Your reunion parties really suck,” said Janie still gasping for air.

There was some brief laughter.

“Crap I see some Chinooks warming up on the tarmac,” said Scott.

“We have six Stingers left,” said Little Jimbo.

“You boys won’t have to worry about those choppers. The wind is right and those choppers are open to the air. I have a special surprise for them and those Hussein Guard boys starting to advance up this mountain again. There is not much left of FEMA camp 37 is there? It was really flattened by Ringo and Doc this time,” said Amanda.

“What have you got up your sleeve girl?” asked Little Jimbo.

“As an old friend of mine use to tell me, watch and learn.”

She pulled out a small black transmitter and pushed the red button on its side. Immediately a large volume of green gas started to pour into the desert air from two deep ditches located on the battlefield below a hundred yards from her location. The green poisonous cloud started to drift up and towards FEMA camp 37.

“Is that the bad ass gas Amanda?” asked Scott.

“Yes. It is bad ass gas for ten minutes. After that you will vomit your guts out and shit your pants for a day or two but it won’t kill you. Save those Stingers in case we need them. You have been shot big man. Why don’t you ride double with me?”

“Will that big stallion let someone else ride him?” asked Scott.

“I reckon we will find out in the next second or two,” Amanda said with a laugh.

Scott mounted the horse sitting behind the Pale Rider. The horse snorted for a few seconds because of the additional weight but did nothing crazy.

The experienced scouts watched as the open air Chinooks loaded with Hussein guardsmen flew directly in their direction above the green gas sucking the deadly poison up into the air. Almost immediately the big helicopters started to spin wildly and then crashed with a heavy thud to the ground rolling over on their sides sending chunks of metal from breaking blades flying into the air. They could also see thousands of Hussein guardsmen falling to their hands and knees eventually lying on the ground in the ravines. It took five seconds for the guardsmen to cease moving.  By the time the Free Americans got over the ridge the old man paused to look back at the military compound and FEMA camp 37, or what was left of it. He could see bodies lying on the desert ground everywhere and none of them were moving. He had never witnessed such a large amount of dying in all his years.

The group took their time to reach the fork to the Passageway of Faith and the Nightmare Trail. Doc was still sitting on his one wheel cart patiently waiting. No one pursued them.

“We had a few ankle sprains, broken bones and light gun shot wounds but nothing serious. We sure got a lot of FEMA inmates with this haul. What are we going to’ do with all of them?”

“We will figure it out Pop. We need to get to the tree line. Data just informed me that Nellis Air Force base is scrambling a squadron of jets and a bunch of Apache attack helicopters. I think they will be headed in our direction so get those boys ready with those Stingers hiding in the woods just in case they still want a piece of us. This should be an interesting fight if it occurs but I think they won’t be here. Tell our men to get behind those boulders and to fire those Stingers early when they see the jets lifting out of Nellis and start to turn our way. Do the same with any of their helicopters. Those Jets have some missiles that can travel a long ways and do a lot of damage but those Stingers can travel a long ways too.”

As the group headed up the usual trail to the secondary base Amanda suddenly stopped the big white stallion and turned to speak to Scott.

“It was nice to see you once again Scott but I am not headed that way.”

The big man dismounted Spooky and Amanda leaned off her saddle to give him a hug and a kiss on his cheek.

“Take care of yourself Pale Rider and if you ever need a job just look me up.”

Amanda had Spooky climb the steep incline to the entrance of the Passageway of Faith while the freed inmates trudged by the fork to the Nightmare Trail.

Everyone stopped in their tracks looking up at the woman as she stopped Spooky on the small rock plateau.

“Uh, where are you going?” yelled Zak.

“I have some business to take care of in California. I think the Reaper might need my help and some poison training.  There are still a lot of FEMA camps and military bases in that big state along with a lot of wonderful mountain ranges. I am not that familiar with them but I have my notebook computer and the satellite images. A mountain range is a mountain range, right? Why?”

“Don’t you want to come home and visit with everyone for a while?”  asked Zak.

“This vast wilderness in the west is my home for now. It is gonna’ be my home until this war is over or until I get killed but I plan on visiting everyone again.”

There was awkward silence for a long moment.

“You ain’t getting off that easy lady! I want to ride with you! I don’t want to lose you again for two years! Wouldn’t you like some company on the trails?” asked Little Jimbo.

Amanda grinned.

“Why, sure Little Jimbo! Is this a request to go out on a date? I thought you was never gonna’ ask! See you in California in a couple of months Scott! You too Ringo, Janie and Em! I love you guys but I have to go! I have a hot date tonight and a war to end!”

The group watched as Amanda and Little Jimbo paused at the Passageway of Faith. They both removed their snake charmers from the rifle harness mounted on their saddles.

“I got the right honey!” she exclaimed.

“Then I have the left covered!” yelled Little Jimbo.

They both spurred the horses disappearing into the dark tunnel. Soon shotgun blasts echoed back to Doc, Zak, the scouts and the gawking freed inmates standing on the Las Vegas Trail.

One of those inmates was a pretty brunette who had heard everything and had a determined look on her face.

“Damn! I think I just lost two good scouts! Kids drive me crazy!” said Zak.

The leaders of Free America headed up the trail for the three day trip home.

Epilogue

So this is the chapter of my life that will be added to the Always Remember Program to be taught in our schools. Reflecting back on what happened forty years ago makes me feel happy and sad. It was the best time of my life and sometimes the worst.

The Second Civil War continued for four more years after the second devastating raid on FEMA camp 37. After many of the leaders of the world had been blown to bits during the second raid most foreign governments withdrew their support realizing that there would be no United States of America in the future. At that time we missed some of the leaders who were attempting to kill us. After the second raid of FEMA camp 37 many foreign leaders made insulting statements that the Americans were just too uncivilized to govern. That was similar to throwing gasoline on a fire. Days after the second FEMA camp 37 razing the resistance movement in the country increased…everywhere in the continental United States.

I rode with Little Jimbo until the end of the war which happened one year after the third and final raid on FEMA camp 37 which was rebuilt by the federal government once again.  We both had the benefit of finding out what a great land America truly is and that there are some brave Christian people in this country who really care. The two of us riding together freed a lot of people. We also executed a lot of government people along with traitors with our poison bombs and our bullets. We were lucky many times during that long ride or maybe watched over by a higher power. That date exactly one year after the final FEMA camp 37 razing was the day Nevada was officially the first state to be liberated. The United States government acknowledged the secession of Nevada. Many states followed the next week.

During this time I found out Little Jimbo’s last name…Taylor. We were married in the Valley of Freedom one week after the official surrender of the United States to Free America by the grave of Georgia Boy. I remember how everyone laughed when I made Spooky the best man at our wedding. The Valley of Freedom was packed with the friends we had made during our journey in the west for our wedding.

Little Jimbo and I acquired a large ranch near Ely, Nevada after the war and have been raising cattle and growing crops since then besides dabbling on the side in government. And we also became one of the most successful horse farms in Free America. We discovered that everyone in the Free America west wanted a Spooky in their life. We had six children and presently have fourteen grandchildren. I was fortunate in life to find a good husband, father and a man like James Taylor.  Even to this day I still call him Little Jimbo when it is just the two of us. I love him dearly.

Zak was shot in the last year of the war along with the Black Widow, Emily. They were on a raid together at the time and fortunately the wounds were not life threatening. During their stay in Doc’s clinic at the secondary base the old man and the much younger female scout bonded. They too were married that day in the Valley of Freedom. They acquired a large ranch next to Little Jimbo and me. Besides cattle, Zak got into the pot growing business and made a fortune. After all, it is a free country. Doc died six years after the war in his sleep. Zak lived another twenty years before dying of lung cancer from all those cigarettes. In those twenty years Emily gave him two wonderful sons during that time that still run his commercial operations. They act just like him and we see them many times every week. When the old man died I cried for days along with Janie and Emily along with many other new friends. We still can’t reminisce about Zak when we get together without crying our eyes out. I miss him.

Scott went on to liberate many states with his army of scouts, including California. He and the scout called the Reaper became the best of friends. When a government was formed he was elected the President of Free America and the scout named Reaper became his reluctant Vice President. America is now a changed land and that is another story but to give you a tidbit of information it was Scott who demanded that the three branches of government be established within the fifty foot tall walls of the Sin City prison in Nevada. It was meant to be a physical reminder to citizens of the future that the government must be contained and restrained…always.

Scott is about to begin serving his eighth term as the President of Free America. There are no such things as term limits in Free America. When you find a good man, you keep him for as long as possible. Scott wound up marrying Calamity Jane. Now there is a unique First Lady. They had four sons and bought a cattle farm adjacent to Little Jimbo and me. All three of the female scouts of Free America along with others still see each other at least every week and rehash our present and past lives. We call it our weekly group cry.

Ringo found a young Hispanic lady and became Scott’s head of farm operations and still is today. He has fathered eight children and is a part of our extended family. He made our struggle in those years a lot less difficult.  Two of his sons represent Nevada in Free America’s Congress.

Big Jimbo died five years ago of sickle cell disease. He married a wonderful lady and after the war Little Jimbo gave him six hundred acres of land next to Johnny’s ranch. He ran a very successful cattle operation with his twelve children and started a thriving chain of pizza restaurants in Free America. He also founded many highly regarded private rural schools in Nevada that bear his name. His death hit Little Jimbo extremely hard. We see Juanita, his wife, several times a week. I miss him.

Little Johnny became big Johnny and runs our ranch along with his wife, three sons and one daughter. He became an important part of our family and now has his own family in a large house on six hundred acres of our fifty thousand acre ranch. He is recognized as one of the most successful horse breeders in Free America.

The members of Congress, the Executive Branch and Judicial Branch of the old United States of America were rounded up after the war and deported to countries that would accept them. Not much was heard from them again.

Georgia Boy, Doc, Zak, Eric and Big Jimbo’s graves are national monuments in the Valley of Freedom. A million people or more every year make the long trip up Highway Ninety Three to visit the Valley of Freedom National Cemetery. There are a lot of white headstones in that valley.  Spooky was buried there too at the foot of a twenty foot high white statue in his likeness behind Georgia Boy, Eric, Big Jimbo, Zak and Doc’s grave. Spooky died thirteen years after the war and I can’t visit his statue without having an emotional break down. I miss him.

Ten years after the end of the war Scott took a group of scouts along with Little Jimbo, Zak and I up into the Rocky Mountains to locate and exhume Eric’s body and give him a proper burial in the Valley of Freedom next to Georgia Boy and Doc. It took us a week to find where I buried him years ago. That was the saddest day of my life so far and I cried for days. I miss him.

I have made some confessions in this story that have been secret for forty years. Now the only thing I worry about is how does Grandma answer prying questions from six grand daughters?

My signature below tells the story.

Amanda Jefferson Taylor

The Pale Rider

FEMA Camp 43

The Story of the Free America West

By R.E. Riepe & M.L.B. Riepe

/Dedicated to M. Riepe, S.E. Riepe, M.A. Riepe and R.E. Riepe

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One – A New Start on Life

Chapter Two – Finding the Love of Your Life

Chapter Three – Ambush

Chapter Four – Box Canyon Camping

Chapter Five – Bounty Hunters & the Javier Trail

Chapter Six – Double Cross at Javier Ranch

Chapter Seven – A New Ranch

Chapter Eight – Inheriting an Armory

Chapter Nine – Air Attack

Chapter Ten – Buried Alive

Chapter Eleven – Measuring a Soul

Chapter Twelve – First Date

Chapter Thirteen – The Twin Caves

Chapter Fourteen – Pimping Ain’t Easy

Chapter Fifteen – Seat of Faith

Chapter Sixteen – Rainy Night

Chapter Seventeen – One Way Trail

Chapter Eighteen – American Holocaust

Chapter Nineteen – Dying Large, Dying Small

Epilogue

Prologue to FEMA Camp 43

I have been asked by the Free America government to write my memoirs about the events of the Second Civil War for the Always Remember Program that is to be implemented in our schools in the coming year. Historians at several of our advanced schools have requested that I focus on the vague and generally unknown events that happened long ago concerning FEMA camp 37. Historians in present times forty years later generally concede that the Second Civil War started the first time that FEMA camp 37 was blown up and burned to the ground by Free Americans in Nevada along with seven other FEMA camps in the country that was formally known as the United States of America. Thankfully it still is one country but the second time around it is now the United States of Free America. It is now strictly governed by our Constitution and Bill of Rights. It was a long and costly struggle. Many Americans died.

Most people today don’t know about the legacy of FEMA camp 37, except for the brave rural citizens in Nevada, which at that time and presently is today, few and far between.  FEMA camp 37 burned to the ground two times over six years, liberated the third time and Nevada became the first state to be free of a government that had become tyrannical and ruthless. There were hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people that died in the FEMA camps. Unlike many states we had only one large city and a vast wilderness composed of a hostile desert and God’s rugged mountains to take refuge in.  God knew what he was doing when he created those wonderful mountains. We also had just one major government military base to take out along with some minor ones in our state. Some Free Americans with a vision of the future knew what to do and how to get it done.

The first time FEMA camp 37 was blown up and burned only nineteen inmates fled to the Free America movement out of two hundred thousand. No one knows to this day how many people perished from the FEMA guards’ guns or the resulting fire caused by our actions. The second time FEMA camp 37 was destroyed after being rebuilt two thousand and twenty two FEMA inmates fled to the mountains with the Free Americans. It has been estimated that over two hundred thousand inmates and government personnel perished that day.

This is where my story begins. I was one of those two thousand and twenty two inmates who fled with the Free Americans that violent and deadly day. I remember as I fled up the east desert ravine running from the backside of the FEMA camp how scared I was at the time. It was difficult to stay on my two feet because of how the ground shook from the frequent massive explosions. Bullets were zinging through the air just over my head and there was deadly poison green gas…a lot of gas. That was the day I got my first glimpse of the young woman known as the Pale Rider on her white horse. It was only a glimpse because on that day she didn’t stay too long in one place but it is one of those images that will forever be burned into the memory banks of my mind. That was the day I decided if I survived the epic battle that I was going to somehow and someway follow in her footsteps and fight to be free. If I died at least I would die free.

The third and final time FEMA camp 37 was liberated over one hundred thousand inmates joined the Free Americans and this time we had the weapons and the people to take back our state thanks to Sin City Prison. We destroyed the government air base at Nellis and liberated Las Vegas the same day.  I know because I was there, this time as a freed inmate and a fighter for the Free America movement

Five days after being freed from FEMA Camp 37 and after a grueling hike through the Sierra Nevada Mountains I arrived at the Secondary Base of Free America. That was the day I met the handsome young man who was known as the Reaper to the United States government. I knew I loved him the second I saw him. It was one of those things that you always read about but never happens to you. It happened to me. I knew I had found the person I wanted to grow old with at that moment. Today I am going on the record now to let people know that it was the two of us, along with Calamity Jane, the Black Widow and some very special four legged friends who freed the two million FEMA inmates at FEMA Camp 43. FEMA Camp 43, despite being the largest concentration camp in history, was also reputed to be the most secure and impenetrable at that time. We proved everyone was wrong. The man known as the Reaper knew what needed to be done and knew the price that had to be paid. The memories of that fateful day warm my heart yet sadden me. I paid a heavy price.

Looking back forty years later I will admit I fled the second FEMA camp 37 bombing not because of courage at the time, but fear. I was young when placed in FEMA camp 37, very young, and I did not know what freedom was. Our elders had lost their way and gave up their liberties along with their freedom to the federal government.

This is my story about life after FEMA camp 37. It is the story of FEMA camp 43 and some very special friends.

Lynn Beasley aka The Night Ranger

Free America Senator from the nation of Free America.  July 4th, 2062

Chapter One

A New Start on Life

The sound of someone rapidly banging on an iron skillet with a large steel hammer permeated the cool morning air. Once opening her eyes the smell of freshly laid hay filled a young woman’s nostrils. She groggily fought her way out of her state of deep sleep opening her brown eyes. When she was fully conscious she focused on the ceiling above where she was sleeping for the past eight hours. The rock roof composed of granite was a long ways away. She then remembered where she was and sat up with a start. She was still wearing her FEMA camp standard issue jumpsuit with big orange numbers on the back that read 44c3625. She made a mental note that some time today she would inquire about taking a shower. After hiking through the Nevada mountain wilderness for five days and only washing her face, hands and feet on occasion she was in desperate need of getting clean but after arriving last night all she wanted to do was get some much needed rest for her sore and exhausted body. Rising to a sitting position on her comfortable cot she started to look around. There were hundreds of freed FEMA inmates nearby still sleeping on cots and on hay piled up in mounds on the rock hard floor despite the annoying sound of the iron skillet. Then the memories of what had happened the last five days came back to her in waves. The feeling of uncertainty once again started to creep through her mind almost causing her to cry. She was scared and yet thankful to finally be out of FEMA Camp 37 and to be free.

She stood to stretch her athletic body. At nineteen years of age she was just entering her prime stages of life but even so her muscles ached. Six days ago she thought she was in the best of physical conditioning thanks to the rigorous demands of her job in FEMA Camp 37, now she had her doubts. Her legs were sore from the tops of her thighs to the soles of her feet. She discovered by the second day of her recent journey that her FEMA boots were good for standing for long periods at her machine station in FEMA Camp 37 but they were not built for hiking. Thankfully during the trip a young male scout of the Free America movement had blessed her with a pair of hiking boots to at least ease the pain of blisters forming on her toes. She was so confused by the events of those first two days that she had not thanked him for the act of generosity or concern. She could not even remember his face, only that he was a handsome and polite young man.

The lack of proper attire was a major problem during the trip to the secondary base of Free America after the raid on the FEMA camp north of Las Vegas. It soon became clear the first night that the Free America fighters had not anticipated two thousand and twenty two inmates fleeing the dreadful prison. She had heard discussions amongst the young men and women who were called scouts that the plan had been designed for two hundred participants abandoning FEMA camp 37.  But these young men and women weren’t concerned about the situation because they had learned long ago how to share and improvise. Mustering the resources available between the one thousand Free America scouts who had participated in the raid they had managed to take care of their unforeseen guests during the difficult journey and see to their safety. In fact, from the very start of the trip, the scouts seemed elated…about something.

She soon discovered why the first night.

These people called scouts were resourceful out in the Nevada wilderness of the mountains. After a twelve hour hike in the high elevations of the mountains in Nevada the two thousand and twenty two inmates stopped at a clean, fast moving mountain stream just as the sun was beginning to go down in the west. She watched in awe as twenty scouts arrived at the temporary camp for the night with deer carcasses secured on the backs of horses. There were many of these young men and some women who immediately proceeded to execute the laborious task of butchering the deer and began to make supper for the hungry inmates. After one hour since the arrival of the fresh kill she was fed and feeling better. It was highly organized mass chaos at its best. What amazed her most was the sound of laughter, something you never heard in FEMA Camp 37. These young men and women seemed to be enjoying themselves and having…fun.

She watched as a long line of inmates were being attended to by a very old man along with a hundred young Free America helpers, both men and women. She had already been through the line to cut the national identity transmitter out of her left forearm during a brief stop for everyone to have a late lunch earlier in the day. The young male field medic was quick and efficient at removing the chip from beneath her skin with a sharp sterile knife and a magnet. Most importantly, he was kind, blessed with a great sense of humor and possessed a great smile. She was at his station less than a minute but she felt like she had known him forever. Most of the laughter at the camp was coming from the field triage that had been set up in a matter of minutes. It seemed to center on an elderly man and a strange one wheeled cart that was apparently his ride. While she watched he seemed to be having a good time interfacing with the much younger generation and especially the young female medics who often gave him a hug and a kiss on his wrinkled cheek which made him grin. That was the first time she saw the man who was simply known as Doc.

That first night when darkness engulfed the mountains a handsome man who looked of American Indian descent named Ringo had made sure she had a blanket to cover her body for the invasion of cold air that was about to come. He had also made sure that she was not sleeping too close to the campfire and spent some time with her checking to see if she was okay for the night. She had expressed concern that Homeland Security would be looking for her and her fellow inmates so she would find it difficult to fall asleep even though she was exhausted. The mixed breed man with long black hair pulled behind his head in a ponytail laughed and assured her that nobody would be coming to start any trouble this night. He reassured her that these were her mountains. There must have been a hundred campfires burning brightly stretched throughout the forest which seemed to her like beacons for enemy Homeland Security forces. The man known as Ringo reassured her that the campfires were not beacons for the enemy but were beacons of light for freedom for any wayward inmates that might have escaped FEMA camp 37 by using an alternate desert ravine and had headed north in the confusion. She finally managed to fall asleep. Later she found out there were a hundred scouts hidden on the nearby mountain tops with Stinger missiles to thwart any attempt by Homeland Security and their machines of war that could fly to seek retribution for what happened the day before. During the night the scouts had shot down twelve government drones searching the mountains for the escapees.

The next four days and nights was a time she would remember for the rest of her life. The journey was strenuous but eye opening. During the trip she was encouraged to mount and ride a horse, something she had never done before in her young life. There were a thousand scouts in this Free America group and for the entire five day journey almost every scout would share their ride with an inmate to give them a much welcomed one hour rest off their blistered feet. The scout would walk along with the refugee sitting on his or her horse answering any questions that the scared inmate may have. Each day she would be placed on a horse five or six hours of every day.  During one of the one hour rides Lynn had conversed with a female scout named Jane who gave her comfort. The female scout was confident and happy with her life, something Lynn had never experienced. Plus the young redheaded woman was only a few years older than her but decades ahead in life experiences. After that one hour ride Lynn wanted to know more about Free America.

Now she was miles away from the Las Vegas Fema camp in a large cavern somewhere in the Central Nevada Mountains. She folded up her light canvas cot, gathered herself and headed to six stables on the opposite wall of the large cavern where the temporary beds were stored. Walking across the crowded hay covered granite floor and patiently waiting in line to drop her load she finally saw a familiar face. It was the female scout named Jane.

“Jane! Jane!” she yelled while frantically waving her right arm.

The redheaded female scout was one hundred feet away. At first Lynn was not sure if the woman had heard her calls because of all the commotion and general noise filling the air. There must have been two thousand people in the cavern along with a large number of horses standing in hundreds of stalls built on the granite perimeter wall.

She was relieved to see the female scout wave back and start to walk in her direction. When she was standing in front of Lynn she extended her hand. Lynn grasped her hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I am so thankful to see you Jane! I don’t know anyone in this large room other than you!”

Jane laughed.

“Don’t worry over that lady! I don’t know many people in this stable either! I am sorry, I don’t remember your name but I do remember you rode my horse a few days ago, I think.”

“Yes! Yes I did! My feet were killing me that day! Thank you for letting me sit on your wonderful horse for an hour!”

“No problem. It was the least I could do. What was your name? You know, I never forget a face but I am terrible with names. That is the tried and true response for awkward situations, is it not?”

Both of the women laughed.

“My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley. I know that you are real busy but could I just ask you a question?”

“Sure. Questions are good.”

“What is this place?”

Jane smiled and looked around the busy stable area, watching the bustling activity.

“Well, I call it home and so do a lot of other people. It has been my home for several years now. But it is known as the Secondary Base in the Free America movement.  Depending on what you decide to do with your life will dictate if you get to know this place better. Zak only planned on two hundred people fleeing FEMA Camp 37 for this raid and not two thousand. The first time we blew up the place only twenty two people fled FEMA Camp 37. Old Zak is in his grouchy mood today because he hates being wrong but if you get to know him you will find that he usually is always in a grouchy mood. You will see in the next two days. There are orientation classes happening right now inside the main part of this base. The trouble is there are only two rooms that have been set up for orientation and the rooms only hold twenty people at a time. I tried to tell the old man just get on a ladder and speak with everyone this morning here in the stable but he got all cranky with me and told me to get my butt out here and get to work, so here I am.”

“Good lord! You have been so nice to me! Who is this grouchy man named Zak?”

“You will get to meet him sometime this week. I love Zak. So does everyone else in this stable who knows him. If he was forty years younger I would try to kill him in bed, I love him so much. The old man walks his own path, marches to a different drummer and is the best friend you can possible find in life. Here, let me return your cot for you and why don’t you mill around for now until someone comes to get you for an orientation class? If you see someone not wearing a FEMA camp suit just say hello to them, shake their hand and ask them any question you want. Ask them their name and introduce yourself.  We are extremely happy that you here Lynn.”

Then the young female scout did something that Lynn had never experienced in her years at the FEMA camp. She leaned over and hugged her new friend.

“You will do fine Lynn,” she whispered in her ear.

Then she took the cot from Lynn’s hands and headed for the stables where the temporary beds were stored.

Lynn found herself standing in the middle of a sea of people walking to and fro, not knowing what to do next. Looking around she decided the best course of action in her life was to start at the large opening which served as the entrance to the stables that was part of a mountain tunnel the inmates had traversed through last night. She would start at that point and by moving clockwise at least she would get to see all the horses standing in their stalls and hopefully make some new friends. She also figured she would meet a lot of the people known as scouts.

It took her ten minutes to work her way through the crowd to where she was standing in the center of the open arch doorway of the Secondary Base’s stable. After surveying the overall pulsing panorama of the cavern she focused her attention to her left.

That was the moment when she first saw the young man to who she was instantly attracted to.  She didn’t know who or what he was but the need to find out welled up in her soul. All she knew and felt was that she would be a part of his life one day in the future. Why, she didn’t know. All she knew was that her heart was beating faster and she was starting to feel light headed. It was a moment that everyone feels at least one time in their life when they see that special person.

She slowly ambled to her left to lean against the left part of the metal housing that contained the massive sliding door to the stable. She stood for a long minute watching the handsome young man who was sitting on a short wooden stool in the front part of a horse stall. It seemed to her that most of the people were avoiding this particularly area of the stable. She quickly realized that this horse stall was vastly different from the hundreds of horse stalls in the Free America stable. This stall, tucked in the corner of the vast stable, was larger, much larger than your average horse stall.

In the back half of this stall was two animals. One was a magnificent large black stallion. The big horse was jet black with a long healthy mane and a large bushy tail. Lynn did not know much about horses but she knew what a healthy animal was supposed to look like. This horse was a big healthy animal.

Next to the stallion was a much shorter stout gray mule. Both animals were eating and drinking from a trough that was set up just for them. Both of the animals stopped eating and were eyeing the young brunette intently as if they knew her.

More interesting to the young woman at that moment were the other critters in the front half of the stall. Sitting in front of the young man on his wooden stool were two large German Shepherds along with a small brown and white dog, which was sitting between the two larger canines. The young man was speaking with his animals and offering, maybe teasing them, with dog biscuits. The three animals turned their heads briefly, in unison, throwing a quick glimpse in the woman’s direction but then focused their attention back on their master. After the second head turning glimpse the young man turned to look at Lynn, smiled and then turned his attention back on his four legged friends.

The German shepherd on the young man’s right was a big dog. He, like the stallion, was solid black. The German shepherd on the young man’s left was an even larger animal. This canine was brown and black with extremely long fur and a large head. With all his thick fur the dog resembled a small bear. The small dog sitting between the two Shepherds was what she thought was called a Jack Russell terrier. He was a stout looking little dog and was dwarfed by the two Shepherds.

During the five day trip to the secondary base Lynn saw no dogs anywhere on the trail. Looking around in the stable area she saw no other dogs. She began to wonder where this young man and his animals came from. She took a few steps forward to where she was halfway between the young man and the opening to the stable and then stopped. The three dogs had turned their heads and were intently watching her movement but did not move. They again turned their attention on the young man who was feeding the three canines small dog biscuits, piece by piece.

“Are they friendly? Will they bite?” she asked.

The young man turned to face Lynn. She caught her breathe once she saw up close how handsome he was. He smiled at her flashing his steel blue eyes and he had a great smile.

“No ma’am! They won’t bite you, well, unless I tell them to bite you.”

He is polite too, thought Lynn.

“Are you a scout?”

“Yes ma’am. I am a scout for Free America.”

“I thought so. So not only do scouts have guns and horses, they have dogs too!”

“I reckon they can have a dog or two if they want to have a dog. I think that I am the only scout who travels with a dog or, uh… dogs.”

“I didn’t see these dogs during my five day journey with my fellow inmates. Were you at the front of the column?”

“No. I wasn’t involved in that operation with FEMA Camp 37. That is not my style. I ride with just my animals and no one else. That keeps everything simple.”

“Can I get close to you to introduce myself? The dogs won’t bite me if I approach you will they?”

The young man laughed.

“No. They may sniff you but they won’t bite you. You have to watch out for the little one though. If he doesn’t like you for some reason he will try to pee on your leg. I have tried to make him stop doing that for a long time now but I finally gave up. He is usually right about finding people that I don’t like as well.”

The young woman froze in her tracks eyeing the Jack Russell terrier intently. The small dog in turn was sizing her up but remained seated.

She cautiously moved forward to where she was standing beside the seated young man. She extended her right hand.

“Hi. My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley. I just arrived last night.”

The young man stood and took her hand. He towered over the woman.

“The pleasure is mine ma’am. I just returned last night to get some supplies myself. My name is Francis.”

He suddenly looked to the ground to the right side of Lynn’s body.

“You better behave yourself Schultz!” he said firmly.

Lynn looked to the ground to see the Jack Russell terrier circling her legs and sniffing her newly acquired hiking boots. The dog circled her several times and he was very quick. Then he zipped back to where he was sitting before, between the two big German Shepherds.

“Good boy! It looks like Schultz likes you!” exclaimed Francis.

“His name is Schultz? What kind of name is that for a terrier?”

“That was the name on his dog tag when I…inherited him,” answered Francis with a somber tone in his voice.

“He is the cutest little thing! What about the two big dogs? What are their names?”

“The black one is named Sarge and the brown one is named Major. The big brown one is Sarge’s son. Sarge is a year older than Major.”

“They get along together?”

“Most of the time they do. Every now and then they have a disagreement but not often.”

“That is surprising. I didn’t think alpha males coexisted without problems,” said Lynn.

The young man laughed again.

“That’s because they aren’t the alpha males in this pack.”

Lynn smiled.

“Oh, I get it! You are the alpha male in this pack!”

“No…I am not the alpha male. I may be called the master but I ain’t the alpha male, at least not in this pack of brats.”

Lynn eyeballed the three dogs even harder. The two big German Shepherds were still sitting at attention watching every move Francis made. In fact, since she had discovered the young scout at the stable the three dogs had not moved, other than Schultz briefly checking out the new arrival. She watched as Francis handed a small dog biscuit to Schultz and then to Sarge. Finally he concluded the biscuit feeding with Major.

“You are teasing me aren’t you?” she asked.

“What are you asking me?”

“Are you telling me that little dog is the alpha male?”

Francis sat back down on his wood stool and reached into his right vest pocket to grab another handful of dog biscuits. He again gave the first one to Schultz and then reversed the order of treats giving one to Major and then Sarge.

“Well, Schultz thinks he is and the two German Shepherds let him think that he is I guess. He gets real pissed off if I give the Shepherds a dog biscuit first. The little dog is the dirtiest fighter I have ever seen in my life and the two big dogs know that he is. Plus he is smart, real smart.”

Lynn was now smiling broadly. She liked this young man and his four legged friends.

“May I pet them please?”

“Sure, be my guest.”

Then he said a command in a language she didn’t know.

“What did you just say? What was that?”

“It is German. They respond to commands in German. They respond as well to English but I usually command them in German. Don’t forget, the big ones are German Shepherds and the little one is smart.”

Then he laughed.

Lynn knelt down to rest on her knees and began to pet the three animals. All three dogs rose to stand on their four feet and moved closer to her body. Francis watched closely. He had never seen his pack act this way so quickly with a stranger. It seemed to him that the pack instantly bonded with this young woman. Major, the youngest of the three, started to lick her hands and planted a few sloppy kisses on her cheek, which caused the young woman to laugh.

“They are adorable! Don’t they miss you when you go out…scouting?”

“I reckon they would if they would ever mind me and stay here! They are dogs! They follow me where ever I go.”

“It would seem to me they would have a difficult time staying up with a horse in the mountains!”

“We don’t run through the mountains like the other scouts. We stroll and take our time thanks to Betty.”

“Who is Betty? Is that your horse?”

“No. Betty is my mule. She is one stout animal and is the key to how we operate. Thanks to her, me and the guys can carry more supplies than an average scout can. We like to tramp the wilderness in style. The black stallion’s name is Midnight. He was a wild horse until three years ago when he befriended me in the Valley of Freedom one day. I still don’t know to this day why he let me ride him without a big fight but he did. It’s a long story. Now that you are free, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I used to assemble communication devices when I was in FEMA Camp 37. I doubt if there is much need for that in these mountains.”

“Oh, you would be surprised. If you want to help in the fight for freedom I am sure Zak will find something for you to do. The Lord knows that we need all the help we can get.”

“That is the second time today I have heard the name Zak,” she said softly.

“Is that right? Who mentioned the name Zak to you before?”

“A real nice lady about the same age as me said nice things about the man named Zak. She is one of your scouts.”

“Was she a redhead?”

“Yes. She is a pretty girl and was dressed like you. She was very nice to me today and during the five day trip.”

“She was? Damn, she must have got laid by one of Scott’s scouts during that trip. That girl is known as Calamity Jane to all of the scouts and she is one tough young woman. It is hard for me to imagine her as a lady or even being friendly. She is a confused young lady. You can tell that because she tells everyone that she wishes Zak was forty years younger than he is,” he answered with a laugh.

“She was nice!”

“I am glad to hear she was nice. Zak must have gotten a hold of her before the raid and told her to tone down her behavior. But now that I think about it, she always is nicer to women scouts than male scouts…unless she wants something. Her riding partner is the Black Widow and they both are good friends with the Pale Rider but I don’t know of anyone else she calls a friend other than the old man and Doc.”

“Who is the old man?”

“That is Zak. Doc is the … older man. Zak is his son.”

“I saw Doc a lot during the five day hike. You are referring to the elderly man with the one wheeled cart.”

“That’s him. He is a crusty son of a bitch but everyone likes Doc. All of us know that one of these days Doc will die on the trail. He is always moving around on that cart which is amazing for such an old man. You have to respect that.”

“I didn’t get a chance to speak with him. He seems very popular, especially with his female helpers.”

“Oh yeah! Doc likes women even though he is too old to do anything with them. You will get some ideas of what to do once you go through orientation. Zak just miscalculated figuring how many FEMA inmates would join us. He was way off on that guess.”

While speaking with Francis the big brown German Shepherd kept nudging Lynn’s arm to attract attention. She responded by petting and scratching his big head.

“He likes you Lynn. That knucklehead usually ignores everybody he meets. It’s been nice chatting with you but I have to get started packing and getting supplies.”

The young man stood up and folded his wood stool. Lynn took it as her cue to move on.

“Thank you for your time Francis. Maybe I will see you again…some day.”

“You never know now days. Good luck in whatever you choose to do,” he said over his shoulder while walking to where his saddle was lying on the ground in the large stall.

Lynn watched him for a moment and continued to move clockwise along the many stalls watching and learning. The entire paddock area was like a beehive, with scouts and freed inmates milling about, waiting to be interviewed by someone from Free America or waiting to go through orientation. She had walked less than one hundred yards when someone tugged on her right arm. She turned to see Jane once again.

“How did you enjoy speaking with Francis?” she asked with a smile.

“Hi Jane! He is a nice young man and good looking too. I especially like his friends.”

“You do? Did that little fucker Schultz pee on your leg?”

Lynn laughed.

“No. He sniffed me out real good but then he sat back down waiting on a dog biscuit.”

“Wow! That is amazing girl. All of the scouts keep an eye on that little shit head, especially the male scouts. I have seen him pee on a bunch of people but everyone knows not to mess with that little asshole and that little asshole knows that because of his two big friends and Francis.”

“Francis told me he was the dirtiest fighter he has ever known. Is he that mean? He seemed very friendly to me.”

“It ain’t the little dog that is mean. Francis is the one you would have to watch out for if you kicked Schultz and that would be after Major and Sarge got through with you. Those two big dogs have killed grown men or so I have heard.”

Jane’s comment caused Lynn to pause before answering.

“Francis is very polite and seems to be a gentle person. The two German Shepherds were very friendly with me, especially the big brown one.”

“Well, Francis is polite unless you mess with one of his pets. He can get nasty if that happens. I haven’t seen him act like that but I have heard tales. I have met him a few times and he has been friendly but he doesn’t say much.”

“Francis doesn’t seem the type to loose his cool.”

Jane laughed heartily.

“While you were in FEMA Camp 37 did you ever hear of the Pale Rider?”

“Yes I did. Every inmate knew about the Pale Rider because of the government newscasts. There were government posters in the community hall with pictures of her and her horse on the wall. The picture of her horse was clear but the picture of her was all grainy. You couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. I think there was a two or three hundred million government credit reward for her, dead or alive. All of the inmates wished she would come to FEMA Camp 37 to set us free. Our wishes were granted, thank God.”

“Yep, that is what happened thanks to Zak ordering her to get her wandering butt back home. Didn’t the government have any other posters on the bulletin board?”

“There were quite a few. I remember some of them. There were a lot of wanted posters on the wall for terrorists associated with the Free America movement.  I don’t remember if your picture was on the wall.”

“It probably is but I only have a million credits offered for me. Was there a poster with an amount of five hundred million government credits?”

Lynn paused for a moment gathering her thoughts.

“Yes, yes I do remember a big poster like that with large numbers printed at the top of the bulletin. What was strange about that poster was it was the only one that wasn’t accompanied by a photo. I do remember the name however because it was printed with big black letters and it was a chilling name. It said wanted dead or alive…the Reaper.”

Jane laughed.

“The young man with his animals that you were speaking with ten minutes ago is the terrorist known as the Reaper.”

* * * * *

Chapter Two

Finding the Love of Your Life

One year had now passed since the second razing of FEMA Camp 37. Free America in Nevada had paid a heavy price for the act. The federal government, as well as many foreign nations, were upset that many of their leaders had paid the price in the frustrating American Second Civil War just for coming to a simple dedication ceremony in the state of Nevada, which was in the middle of nowhere. All the visitors thought they were safe. After that day, many members of the foreign press, who had also lost a lot of their employees from the blasts, concluded that the situation in the United States could not be easily tamed and that the federal government was in for a long, bloody struggle. They had also concluded that the Free Americans were crazy. They surmised that most Free Americans would rather die, then not be free. Everyone in the world was watching America, knowing from the first Civil War, that there was a lot of dying still to come.

The first time FEMA Camp 37 was burned to the ground four years ago seven other FEMA camps in the United States were attacked the same day. It made the news world wide. That day marked the beginning of the Second Civil War and the impact of the destruction of FEMA Camp 37 was diluted. The second time FEMA Camp 37 was burnt to the ground the effect on the civilian populations and the federal government was more dramatic. The persistent destruction of FEMA Camp 37 by the Free Americans rallied the civilian populations, convincing them that the movement wasn’t going to go away until the last man or woman with the Free America movement was killed and more importantly, that there was hope for a Free America some day. After the second destruction of FEMA Camp 37 the battles in the cities and rural areas became larger and more violent. Some cities became armed encampments where no Homeland Security member or FEMA employee would dare go. The mountains of East and West America were no man’s land for federal employees, including the military personnel who were called home from foreign soil by the dictator to engage the home grown threat. Fortunately, for surviving Americans, most soldiers, upon returning home, went AWOL to protect their families and friends. Some had joined the Free America movement, mostly in the East. Between the rugged terrain of the East where the battle raged and the Rockies and Sierras in the west there was a vast flat area of farmland. Crossing this area was proving to be hazardous to anyone’s health.

The government had built up existing bases and established many new ones because of the open skies and flat land in the Midwest of America. The only scout outfits that were effective in dealing with the heavily fortified military camps located in the flatlands were the Pale Rider and her riding partner Little Jimbo. After figuring it out, Zak sent the Reaper to do the same for the past year. The Reaper’s actions this past year was where he added to his reputation. So far there still was no photo of the Reaper. The government credit rewards leveled at five hundred million for the capture or killing of the Reaper, the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo. Many traitors who were native to this land joined in the search for the trio.

Nevada became the focus of the civilian populations, both in and out of existing FEMA camps and the federal government. The feds had decided to make an example of the rebellious state of what could be done if you didn’t fall in line with the dictators demands. Immediately following the second burning of FEMA Camp 37, the Homeland Security, FEMA and military organizations quickly changed modes and decided to fight this war differently, to fight fire with fire.  The federal government drafted their top special force’s members to create ten divisions of ten men mounted patrols to head into the rugged mountains of Nevada, to find and kill the enemy. They also removed the national identity chips from their weapons, animals and ground troops. The federal government had finally figured out that Free America was using their own technology against them. Now, Free America was blind to troop movements. Most of these ten man patrols were composed of mercenary foreigners hoping to get rich off of killing Americans. For them, this was the opportunity of a lifetime to get wealthy off of the United States government. For others, this was a religious quest to be fulfilled. The Americans who were members of the diverse assortment of special force’s teams recalled back from foreign countries elected to leave the military once back on American soil because of their religious beliefs along with their love of country and family. To hunt down and kill fellow Americans desiring to be free was wrong. Many of these fighting men and women joined the Free America movement, especially in the East.  Only the scum of the Earth remained with the kill patrols prowling the mountains in Nevada.

The effort by the federal government was having some limited success. A lot of Free America scouts had been killed during the past year. The graveyard in the Valley of Freedom was getting larger with each passing week. The forces of good and evil were clashing every day. Homeland Security was determined to take back the state of Nevada despite the costs in treasure and lives. The government forces were determined to demonstrate to the rest of the country that to rebel would result in death. The government was going to make an example of the Silver State. This was the reason for the meeting today at the Secondary Base.

This day was the second day that Lynn met the young man known as the Reaper although at the time she had no clue that their paths were about to cross once again in life. It was one of those times when Fate and God intervenes in a person’s life.

The stable’s main area was filled with all types of hastily set up tables, chairs and stools. The place was noisy, filled with conversations generated from the scouts and the numerous stable hands. No one knew why they were urgently summoned from their field duties. For some, it had taken a week of travel for them to arrive. The old man had deemed that attendance was mandatory, which was rare.

The door to the computer area of the Secondary Base opened and Zak stepped into the paddock. He looked tired, his long hair was a tangled mess and there were more wrinkles in his weathered face. He slowly walked to the large group of scouts to stand in front of them. He raised his arms to ask for silence. As he did everyone at that moment heard the clip clop of hooves coming from the open semi circular doorway leading to the tunnel directly behind them. Turning to take a look, everyone saw a young man on a black horse stopping just inside the large semi circular entrance. On his right was a grey mule carrying multiple canvas bags and rolls. Moving around the legs of the black stallion were two big dogs and a small dog. Everyone turned to stare. The Reaper had returned home for now and he had a dark look on his young face as if he were annoyed.

Before dismounting his large black stallion he reached in his vest pocket and retrieved a small thin cigar and then lit it, staring at the crowd with his steely blue eyes. He was in no hurry.  He sat on Midnight for a long moment surveying the assembled group of scouts not making a sound and there was total silence in the large stable. Even the numerous horses and the young men working in the livery area stopped whatever they were doing.  The Reaper’s pack of dogs continued to circle his horse and mule, establishing what was apparently a security perimeter. To every scout watching, the dog’s behavior was menacing, even the small one, who was looking at the seated group baring his teeth but not making a sound. All three of the dogs both large and small were surveying the assembled crowd.  The Reaper saw the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo sitting on the back row and nodded his head in their direction. Then he dismounted.

Going to the mule he removed a small wooden stool, slowly unfolded the contraption and sat down. The two German Shepherds took up positions on his left and right while the small terrier sat directly in front of his body. The Reaper reached down and petted his small dog.

“Good boy,” he said softly.

“It is so nice you decided to join us today Francis! Your timing is still impeccable!” exclaimed Zak loudly while standing in front of the assembled crowd.

The scouts could tell by his voice that Zak was a little perturbed by the late arrival.

The young man stared with a cruel steel gaze with his blue eyes across the sea of scouts locking eyes with Zak. It was so silent in the paddock that you could hear a pin drop.

“I am here old man,” he said with a soft, low pitched voice.

“You made it here just barely. Let’s see, you were in Northern California and it took you six days to get here?”

“Seven. Betty had a bad case of diarrhea and that slowed us down.”

The scouts in the stable laughed.

The Reaper was sitting behind the assembled group a good fifty feet away and he was not laughing. Once everyone realized that his mule had experienced a bad case of diarrhea during his seven day journey and that he was serious the laughter quickly died down.  Lynn was sitting in the back two rows, where newly commissioned scouts sat. She turned and waved at Francis and she was sure he saw her, but he didn’t wave back. He just sat on his wooden stool continuing to smoke his small cigar while petting his dogs on occasion.

“Okay, now that the entertainment act of the meeting is over I want to get down to business. We are losing scouts at an unacceptable level. The ten man patrols the government is implementing to fill our mountains are having an effect on our ranks. That is because our scouts are either riding alone or with a partner. We are being outnumbered out in the field when we run across or confront one of these ten man patrols. From now on I want everyone to scout with a five man or woman formation. That should even the odds a bit.”

Amanda, the Pale Rider, instantly stood and whistled when Zak concluded his statement. Little Jimbo, who was sitting beside her on the back row, did the same. The Reaper stood up and folded his wooden stool and commenced to attach the implement to his mule’s saddle.

A black horse and a white stallion entered the stable area and stopped behind the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo. At the same time, the Reaper walked from his mule and mounted Midnight. It was clear to everyone at the meeting that he was about to leave along with the Pale Rider and her partner.

The Pale Rider and Little Jimbo mounted their rides and steered their horses to where they were standing beside the Reaper and Midnight.

“How have you been Francis?” she asked.

“Good, good. How have you and Little Jimbo been doing? Still keeping the tent warm at night?”

“Hey, hey, you three! What do you three scouts think you are doing? Where are you three scouts going? I am not through yet!” yelled Zak.

Francis turned to look at Amanda and was still puffing away on his thin cigar.

“He must be talking to you and little Jimbo,” he said softly while turning to look at Zak again.

“No he’s not! He’s talking to all three of us! Me and Little Jimbo have each other and we don’t need anyone else! We don’t have the time to baby sit any scouts riding with us!”

“Well, he ain’t talking to me! I already have a five man crew,” said Francis slowly while blowing a puff of smoke into the air.

He finished his small thin cigar, put out the butt on his saddle horn, reached in his vest pocket and lit up another. He paused for a moment, looked at the Pale Rider and grinned. Then he focused his look on Zak.  He raised his voice to speak at Zak. Every head in the room was turned in his and the Pale Rider’s direction. There was still stone cold silence in the stable. The Reaper, even though raising his voice to some degree, still spoke with a subdued soft, grizzled voice.

“I am getting out of here old man. Thanks for wasting my time,” he said in his gruff voice.

“You need to travel with four men Francis, just to be safe! That is my new mandate!”

Francis paused for a long moment before answering, turned his head to grin at Amanda and Little Jimbo. The Pale Rider and her mate were not grinning. He turned to look at Zak again.

“You fight this war trying to be safe you are going to lose it old man. Besides, I already have a five man crew. You need to speak with the Pale Rider about riding with a five man crew, not me.”

He turned and grinned at Amanda, who was not grinning.

“Thanks a lot Francis,” she grumbled.

“Have you lost your mind Francis? You don’t have a crew!” yelled Zak.

The scouts laughed, but the laughter was subdued and very nervous.

“Sure I do Zak. I have me, Midnight, Major, Sarge and Schultz. That is the best five man crew in the West and I have one stubborn female traveling with me. Betty helps keep us boys grounded.”

Now the scouts were laughing.

“Those animals are not the same as a scout!” yelled Zak.

Zak’s statement instantly pissed off Francis. Amanda and Little Jimbo could tell by his eyes and they weren’t sure what would happen next. Francis removed the cigar from his mouth, blew a big puff of smoke into the air, spat on the ground and then raised his head staring intently at the old man. Then he leaned off his horse to his right where the brown German Shepherd was standing as if waiting on an order.

“Blitzkreig the old man Major,” he said softly.

The large, long haired German Shepherd looked up at his master from where he was sitting.

Then Francis pointed at Zak.

“Zuruckhalten!” yelled Francis as the dog bolted from his sitting position directly headed for Zak.

The assembled group of scouts watched as the big, long haired German Shepherd barreled directly through the assembled crowd of scouts zeroing in on Zak. In the meantime, the black German Shepherd and the small Jack Russell terrier charged to the left of the seated scouts, generally moving in the same direction.

When Zak saw the brown Shepherd coming for him, he took off running for the door to the Secondary Base and safety. The door was too far away. The brown Shepherd hit Zak directly on his back knocking him face down to the straw covered floor. One second later the black Shepherd had Zak’s left arm in his jaws while the brown Shepherd had his right arm and the terrier was grabbing each of Zak’s trouser legs in an alternate fashion, ripping his pants legs and shaking them violently with his head, growling loudly. The dogs had soft bites, not drawing a single drop of blood.

There was silence in the stable, except for the growling from Schultz.

“Would you please watch Betty for me Amanda? I will be right back,” asked Francis politely.

Amanda was laughing her head off while Little Jimbo had a grin on his face.

“With pleasure Francis,” she replied.

He handed Betty’s reins to the Pale Rider and then the Reaper spurred Midnight as he slowly made his way to where Zak was lying on the ground on his back with the animals restraining him. Schultz continued to grab Zak’s trouser legs ripping the garment into fragments. He would grab the left leg until the cloth ripped and then he would grab the right, shaking his head and growling the whole time. The Shepherds had Zak’s forearms, staying low to the ground and not moving or making a sound like two statues. Francis dismounted Midnight and walked to where he was directly over Zak.

“Oww! That hurt!” exclaimed Zak looking up at Francis with an angry look.

“What are you talking about old man? They didn’t bite you.”

“No, but hitting the damn rock floor is what hurt! I was like being hit by a bull dozer.”

“Entbinden!” commanded Francis.

The three dogs instantly released Zak, backing away from his prone body but staying close in case they were needed again.

Francis reached down and helped the old man to his feet.

“What the hell was that you just said?” asked Zak.

“Entbinden. It’s German. It means to release.”

At that moment Schultz made his trade mark move and marked the old man’s right leg with piss.

Nobody was laughing in the room other than the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo who were still on their horses in the rear of the stable. They both knew about Schultz.

“You need to get that fucking mutt under control Francis!” yelled Zak once he realized what the small dog had just done.

“Believe me old man, I have tried. Do you think any three scouts can do what my three boys just did that quickly, without killing the person?”

“What good is that?” roared Zak.

“You would have found out if I had told them to gestorben.”

“What does that mean?” he asked angrily.

“That would mean to all three of them that I wanted you dead.”

Zak froze not saying anything but was watching the dogs, especially the German Shepherds.

Francis turned and mounted Midnight, then slowly turned and headed back to where Betty was waiting with the Pale Rider. The dog pack followed his lead. Schultz continued to stay close to the old man until Francis and the two Shepherds were well away, then the small dog bolted through the sitting crowd of scouts to the back of the room.

The show was over.

Once arriving back from where he started the attack he took Betty’s reins from Amanda.

“That was a pretty good show Francis. Where are you headed to?” asked the Pale Rider as if nothing had happened.

“Hey you three! Use those notebooks and stay in touch!” yelled Zak.

Then he waved them off.

“Let’s move out into the tunnel and talk.  Let’s allow Zak to have his silly meeting,” said Francis.

As the three scouts and the pack moved out into the tunnel they heard a voice from behind.

“Francis! Francis!”

They turned to see a young gorgeous woman running to them. She stopped by Francis and instantly Major jumped on the front of her body and started to lick her face.

“Good boy Major! You remember me!”

Francis and Amanda both were looking intently at the young female scout.

“How do you know my dog?” asked Francis.

“Don’t you remember? I met him, Sarge and Schultz a year ago to this day. I was one of the inmates who were freed after the second raid on FEMA Camp 37.”

Amanda grinned and leaned off of Spooky, extending her hand.

“Hi. My name is Amanda. Schultz didn’t pee on you did he?” she asked with a giggle.

“No, he sniffed me and then sat down next to Francis.”

“Well, that is a good start to a friendship I would say. I am Little Jimbo,” said Amanda’s partner, shaking Lynn’s hand.

“I’m sorry but I don’t remember your name. What is your name?” asked Francis trying to jar his memory banks.

“My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley for the second time.”

Upon hearing her name the Reaper’s steel blue eyes lit up.

“It is nice to meet you again Lynn. I do faintly remember our meeting in this stable a year ago. You didn’t know what you wanted to do that day if I remember correctly. I see you decided to become a scout. That was not a wise choice young lady. Now days scouts have a short life expectancy.”

“It was clear to me after I went through orientation what I should do. It has taken me a year to learn to be a scout. I went through every course Zak had and have ridden for two months with Calamity Jane and the Black Widow.”

“Those are the best female scouts in the business. Were those missions or patrols?” asked Amanda.

“Well, no. They were more like how to survive in the Nevada wilderness on a cold ass night. After today’s meeting Zak has assigned me to a five man patrol with Janie and Emily. I don’t know who else has been assigned.”

“That is some good news for you. The Black Widow and Calamity Jane are two damn good scouts. If you are lucky you may survive this war.  Have you got a handle?” asked Little Jimbo.

“I was thinking about calling myself the Night Ranger. That name was the only one that was available that sounded good.”

Francis shifted in his saddle, looked at Little Jimbo and the Pale Rider then finally focused his gaze on Lynn.

“That is a great name Lynn Beasley. I hope you live long enough and kill enough Homeland Security personnel to get a five hundred million credit on your name. I just have one question. Did you take the course on poison?”

Lynn returned the Reaper’s stare.

“Yes I did. There were only three of us for that one month course. That is one nerve wracking course.”

“One month? Damn, I am impressed. When I was taught there were twenty scouts in the classroom and it lasted one week!” he exclaimed.

“Me too!” added the Pale Rider.

“Doc told us of all the scouts who have taken the course only you and the Pale Rider were the only ones still alive that use poison. When he announced that statement after two weeks I was the only one who remained to learn. Doc taught me a lot.  And Janie taught me some things on the side in her spare time, but she doesn’t fuck with the poison anymore. She told me not to take the course because that is a good way of getting yourself killed but I stuck it out.”

The Pale Rider looked at Francis with an uneasy stare.

“Well, that old man is probably right. Making the poison has gotten a lot better and a lot more safe since the twin caves were established,” said the Pale Rider.

“What are the twin caves?” asked Lynn.

“Your instructor said nothing about the twin caves?” asked Francis.

“No.”

“Do you have any poison in your saddle bags now?” asked the Pale Rider.

“Yes, I will be ready to travel today.”

“Go get your horse and bring him or her over here,” said Amanda.

Lynn left to get her horse while the meeting in the stable continued. Zak watched as Lynn went to her stall to retrieve her animal but said nothing. Soon she returned to the tunnel with her mount.

“You have a big black stallion! He is a fine looking animal, Lynn!” said Little Jimbo.

Little Jimbo was an expert when it came to horse flesh. He loved the animals.

Amanda dismounted Spooky and went to Lynn’s horse.

“What’s his name?”

“Butch,” she replied.

Amanda grinned.

“That is a great name! I am sure Emily and Janie like it!”

“They do. He was a government horse that we inherited. Johnny, the stable master, said he was two years old. He also told me he was a mountain horse, not a trail horse.”

“Johnny should know. Show me one of your bombs,” said Amanda.

Lynn removed a short cylindrical shaped object from her left rear saddle bag and handed it to Amanda. She looked at the pipe bomb and sniffed it a few times.

“It’s what we call mustard gas. That won’t kill a man quick. Who made this for you?”

“I made it in the secure room with one of the instructors. That is all we are allowed to make, along with some cyanide and arsenic bombs every now and then. All I have are the mustard gas pipe bombs. Doc showed me how to make cyanide and arsenic bombs but he wouldn’t let me use the real stuff in the lab.”

“How many of these pipe bombs do you have in your saddle bag?”

“Three.”

“Holy shit! No wonder so many scouts are getting killed out there!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“Is something wrong?” asked Lynn.

“No, nothing is wrong. It looks like you and me are the last of a breed of scout, Francis,” said Amanda.

The Reaper put out his small thin cigar on his saddle horn and lit another.

“Maybe so, Amanda, maybe so.”

The Reaper turned Midnight towards the tunnel exit while Amanda mounted Spooky.

“Wait a minute Francis! Please! Be honest with me! Is something wrong?” pleaded Lynn.

The Reaper paused for a second before answering. Looking at the Pale Rider she nodded her head. Finally he spoke.

“You need a longer fuse on that pipe bomb to start with. Plus when you set it off just make sure the wind is right.”

He paused for another moment looking into Lynn’s brown eyes. Then he reached in his front right saddle bag and produced a small black cylinder. On the cylinder was mounted a small black box.

“Here, take this with you when you go out with Janie and Emily. I like those women. Use this only as a last resort and make sure when you throw it, it lands far away and that the wind is blowing away from you. Before you throw it press the red button. You will have five seconds before it blows. Just make sure you are upwind and that there is a strong wind behind you. You don’t want to get a whiff of this poison. It will be your last whiff.”

“Is that one of the contact bombs?” asked the Pale Rider.

“Yep. It’s a small one but it should easily kill a ten man patrol, more if they are present.”

“So what is wrong with the mustard gas?” asked Lynn.

“If they have gas masks they won’t be killed. It doesn’t matter what they are wearing with that little bomb in your hands,” answered Amanda.

“All the government goons carry gas masks now days. The trick is to catch them when they least expect it. Plus Amanda has figured out how to make colorless gas. She just sets a bomb off with no explosion and when they ride through the area the government goons drop like flies, including their horses, which I hate to see,” said Little Jimbo.

At that moment the meeting broke up. Sarge and Major instantly stiffened and stood next to the rear of Midnight’s rear flanks.

“Hey, wait a minute you three! What do you think you are doing Night Ranger? You missed the meeting!” yelled Zak.

He slowly approached the small group keeping his eyes on the German Shepherds.

“Francis, tell that little dog to mount! I know he does that when you ride!” exclaimed Zak.

Francis grinned then gave the command.

“Schultz, berg!”

The small dog was moving on the ground circling Zak. When Francis gave the command the Jack Russell terrier made a tight loop to the left side of Midnight and ran at the black stallion. At the precise distance he jumped, hitting Francis’s left foot in his stirrup and landed on the horse in the saddle in front of the Reaper. Francis opened a flap on a half saddle bag on his right and the small dog quickly settled in its interior. You could just see his head from the neck up. He had done this before. He was eyeing Zak and emitting a low growl showing his teeth.

“Okay Zak, you don’t have to worry about Schultz taking a pee on you…for now,” said Francis softly.

“Night Ranger, you need to go find Janie and Emily and get ready to leave! Now!” ordered Zak.

“Yes sir! I hope to see you again one of these days Francis,” she said.

She glared at Zak for a brief moment, turned and went back into the stable leading her horse.

“I like her,” said the Pale Rider.

“I figured that! She has the same shitty attitude you had when I freed you from FEMA Camp 37 three years ago!”

“She should make a good scout then, if you let her old man. How did she do in her training?” asked Francis.

“She made higher marks than the Pale Rider. Janie and Emily told me she has learned to ride well and that she takes care of her animal to an extreme that could get her killed, just like someone I know,” he answered scowling at Amanda.

“So Johnny made her a custom horse blanket?” asked Amanda with a grin.

“Yes he did, against my orders. He has a thriving black market with the scouts now days doing that. He has more silver in this base then anyone I suppose. Little brat!”

“Did you get more supplies to the twin caves?” asked Francis.

“I did, two weeks ago! Well, my main man Ringo did! Where were you?”

“I was on my way there when I got an urgent stupid message to attend this bullshit meeting of yours. It took me ten days to get here from northern California actually. I could have visited the twin caves and been well on my way to kill some of those ten man patrols that are giving you nightmares,” replied Francis.

“It should only take you seven days on a good horse! I have made that trip several times from that area to the Secondary Base and it never took me more than a week! Good lord Francis! That mule really slows you down!”

“You can do it your way and I will do it mine. That mule takes care of me and the guys.”

The Jack Russell terrier was sitting in his saddle bag looking at Zak and he was growling much louder.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Schultz loves Betty and he understands English probably better than you. I would suggest you quit bitching about Betty.”

Amanda and Little Jimbo were enjoying the show.

“I gotta’ go,” said Francis.

“At least give me a clue as to what you are doing Francis!”

Francis stopped Midnight and looked out the tunnel exit.

“The same old thing I have been doing for the last three and half years. Killing Homeland Security goons before they kill me I reckon. Plus I still have to kill that uncle of mine one of these days if ever make my way up to Elko.”

Amanda knew exactly what he was referring to. She and her first partner, Eric, were there that cold night. She and Eric were the scouts who saved Francis’s family and escorted the young man, his sisters and mother back to the Secondary Base after the incident where the Reaper’s father was killed. The reason his father was killed was because Francis’s father had provided Amanda and Eric shelter for the frigid night in his barn and the young man’s uncle went to Homeland Security that night to get the reward money for information leading to the capture or death of the Pale Rider. It was a violent confrontation with twenty Elko Homeland Security agents and Francis’s father had been killed. Francis’s father was a true patriot and had paid the ultimate price for freedom. Francis was still paying back the federal government for that tragic night.

“Come on Francis! Tell me what you are up to?”

Francis put out his cigar on his saddle horn.

“Okay. I am working on FEMA Camp 43 in my spare time.”

“Francis! That is the largest and most fortified FEMA camp in the west! There are over two million inmates in that camp and it sits in a mountain valley that is supposed to be impenetrable. Plus there is a massive fortified wall at the entrance. It is a tougher nut to crack than FEMA camp 37 and is a long ways away from either the Main or Secondary Base. Aren’t there a hundred thousand FEMA guards at that camp?” exclaimed Amanda.

“Not really girl! There are tons of mountains in all directions, more ravines then you are aware of but you are right about a few things. It is one big camp in a deep valley and it looks like Sin City prison out in the middle of the mountains. And there are a hundred thousand guards mistreating ordinary citizens. I am going to kill them all.”

“Isn’t that camp right next to the federal prison near Lovelock?” asked Little Jimbo.

“It is next door a few miles away. They are using the convicts in the federal prison as guards to keep the FEMA inmates in line. I find it troubling to know that a murderer or child rapist is supposed to be guarding you. Plus, they are using the FEMA inmates to make weapons and ammunition to kill us. I am gonna’ kill the Lovelock prisoners too. I should be ready in another two months to make a move on both facilities but I am ready to blow up FEMA Camp 43 right now. Before I do that, Doc wants the warden for our experiment. That may be difficult to do. I ain’t figured out how to do that…yet.”

“Are you and Pop still doing that project? Good grief! Doctor Frankenstein and his assistant Igor! We have an ongoing war to fight Francis!” yelled Zak.

“I know that old man. I have done my fair share. I love your Pop and I think he is on the right track. Can you imagine the consequences if his experiments provide proof?”

“What ever are you talking about Francis?” asked the Pale Rider.

He looked at Zak who was shifting his weight from foot to foot. He felt uncomfortable speaking about the project but he knew that if his father, who was a genius and maybe an insane one, would rock the world if he proved a theory.

“Go ahead, tell them old man.”

“It’s a crazy project Amanda. At least it is crazy to be working on something like this when there is a war going on. Doc and Francis have been working on this stupid project for the last three years and they have some disturbing results that if they are ever revealed to the world will affect every religion. I have no idea how people will think if the experiment is published.”

“Well, tell me and Little Jimbo. We have the time before we leave. That’s okay with you, right Francis?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Sure, I love the old, er, older man and so far, I think he is onto something. It will have more of an effect on the world than any of my bombs if he is right.”

“Okay. I have the time to tell you. A long time ago, back in the early nineteen hundreds there was this doctor, some labeled him a crazy doctor, named Duncan Mac something or other.,,”

“It was Duncan MacDougall, Zak. He lived in the northeast United States,” interjected Francis.

“What ever Francis! Anyhow, he set out to prove that there was a soul. So he started to measure the weight of people who were about to die using industrial scales sensitive to the gram. After weighing six people who died of something or other….”

“They died because of tuberculosis old man! Good lord! Don’t you and Doc ever speak with each other anymore?” asked Francis.

“We talk every day youngster!”

“Yeah right!”

“Anyway, if I can continue without being interrupted, when these people died he found that their souls weighed twenty one grams, on average.”

“That is the wildest story I have ever heard! Is this true Zak?” asked Amanda.

“Yes. So far Doc’s findings are supporting the theory. What he has found so far that is amazing is that the weight of the soul depends on what kind of life the person has lived.”

“You lost me there Zak.”

“So far, Doc has had twelve people who were on his digital scales who died on site at the main and secondary base. They were twelve good people, patriots who believed in God and were good Christian people.  A few of the volunteers for the experiment were members of other faiths but they had lived good, clean lives. Some of these people were scouts and some were our elderly members.  I knew all of them well. So did Doc. They were informed of what Doc was trying to prove and they all knew that their lives on this world were about to end. All of them had tried to live a life of faith.”

“Wow! I didn’t know of this! So what did Doc find?”

“He found that this doctor had discovered something. When one of our people passed they lost twenty one grams of weight at the point of death for some reason. That shouldn’t happen. The twenty one grams is an average. Some lost more weight, others a little less. The little less got Doc to thinking why would that happen. He got a clue on patient number nine and eleven. The ninth patient was a pastor and a very pious man. He was a missionary, had lived a long life and been a good man his entire life of seventy two years. He was a minister here at the Secondary Base and I knew him before the war started.”

“What faith was he Zak?” asked Amanda.

“He was an Episcopalian priest. He was my family’s preacher for years, since I was a teenager. When he died he lost twenty eight grams, seven above the average.”

“That doesn’t make sense to me. A soul is a soul, if there is a soul,” said Amanda.

“People have souls. Doc has made a believer out of me,” said Francis.

“May I continue?” asked Zak.

“Sure, tell her the rest, which I don’t agree with.”

“The eleventh patient was a good man too, with a troubled past. He was a scout who suffered some serious injuries. This was right before the first raid on FEMA Camp 37. He had killed quite a few Homeland Security agents in his service to us but was a good Christian young man. I knew him well because I trained him. When he died eighteen grams were lost. This got Doc thinking hard. What he wanted was people who he felt had no soul. So he went to Francis three years ago and got him to help. Francis is great at kidnapping bad guys and bringing them back to the Secondary Base alive. In the last three years he has brought back twenty seven FEMA camp big wigs and Homeland Security commanders. Their souls so far have averaged two and half grams.”

“That is unbelievable! How did they die?”

“Doc put them to sleep.”

“Holy shit! No kidding? That is hard to believe! Doc seems to be a gentle man!” exclaimed Amanda.

“He is. He lets me push the plunger to kill them. That doesn’t bother me. They all were murderers, scum of the earth and deserved what they got. I just sent them on their way to be judged by God,” said Francis.

At first Amanda didn’t know what to say.

“So why is there a difference?”

“Because the more evil they are the less soul they have,” answered Francis.

“It’s beginning to look that way,” said Zak.

“That ain’t the whole story Zak! Tell her the rest of the story, what the crazy doctor says he found! That is the only reason I agreed to participate in this fucked up project!”

Francis’s outburst surprised the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo. Francis never seemed to lose his cool. Even Schultz in his saddle bag started to growl at Francis’s emotional outburst.

“Okay Francis. Chill. After the six patients the good doctor in the long ago past was shut down using humans. Later he started to use dogs. After fifteen dogs he concluded because of his negative results that dogs did not have a soul,” said Zak.

“That is where the good doctor is full of shit! Ain’t that right Schultz?” asked Francis.

The little dog yapped several times and continued to growl.

“You may as well tell Amanda and Little Jimbo the rest of the story and talk faster you southern redneck. I need to get on the trail to kill some Homeland Security patrols,” said Francis.

“It was found later that many religious organizations, especially the Catholic Church, suppressed the findings and further study by MacDougall. Why, I don’t know why but you can figure it out,” stated the old man.

“That doesn’t make sense! Don’t religions operate world wide on saving the soul?” asked Amanda.

“They do. But what if a way was found to measure your soul while you were still alive? Life would get interesting I must say. What if a presidential candidate was measured for his soul and it was found to be two grams? Or a Catholic priest who was a potential child molester was measured and found that he had one gram of soul? The imagination runs wild doesn’t it?” answered Zak.

“I just have one question. How many people had the scout whose soul weighed eighteen grams kill during his time serving Free America?” asked Amanda.

“Oh, I reckon one hundred or more. Why? Worried about what you have done? Are you worried about going to Hell?” asked Zak.

Francis laughed.

“Man, if that has any bearing on the measurement me, Little Jimbo and Amanda must be in the negatives. We will be going to Hell for sure!” exclaimed the Reaper.

Zak sighed and shook his head.

“So what is your plan?” asked Zak.

“The way I figure, from what I heard, the commander of FEMA Camp 43 is one evil son of bitch and he has of all things, a Jack Russell terrier that he is crazy about. Once I get him in my grasp I already have all my bombs in place to take out the FEMA 43 camp. I have been working on this for the last eighteen months. I just have to figure out a way to grab the boss, with or without his damn dog and bring him back here for Doc to do his thing. That should be one hell of an execution and the results should be interesting, to say the least.”

“If you accomplish that are you planning on killing the dog too? Why would you do that? He hasn’t done anything!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I didn’t say I was going to do that! But I certainly intend on Schultz interviewing his dog’s little ass. Then we will decide what to do.”

Now Little Jimbo and Amanda were laughing as well as Francis.

“Where are you going Amanda?” asked Zak.

“Me and Little Jimbo are heading to the plains to take out some of those newly built federal bases. We should be busy for the rest of the year God willing. But I need to make some more poison.”

“Okay, I want you to be careful. I can’t afford to lose you or Francis right now. If you need anything use the notebooks and let me know if I can help. We have a much stronger support network thanks to the civilians. Oh, and by the way. Francis, you now have a seven hundred million government credit on your head. So do you Amanda. Your reward has been raised to seven hundred million too, Little Jimbo and the government has good photo of you. That is a lot of government money and it will bring out the worst on Americans who are traitors,” said Zak.

“Big deal! Is there a photo of me?” asked Francis.

“No but just like Amanda, they know about your ride. In your case, the government definitely knows about the mule and they have been reporting that the Reaper may also travel with a pack of killer dogs that do his bidding. Those mutts you travel with will be a good indicator to any bounty hunters roaming around in Nevada.”

Francis shook his head slowly and spurred Midnight. He headed to the tunnel exit. Over his shoulder he said before he left.

“Betty’s worth more than seven hundred government credits…to me. And those fuckers don’t even have a reward on her. Let the bounty hunters try to collect. I will be waiting on them, the traitors.”

With that statement, the Reaper moved out of the tunnel with his dogs following close behind and headed to the Las Vegas Trail.

* * * * *

Chapter Three

Ambush

Two days had passed since the meeting at the Secondary Base where Zak had summoned most of his remaining scouts from their field duties. Lynn was now a member of a party of five scouts that included experienced scouts Calamity Jane and the Black Widow along with two new male scouts named Donnie and Chris who were rookie scouts just like Lynn.

The two days on the Las Vegas Trail had been a grueling long ride. The small party of scouts was assigned to patrol a well known trail that led to the small city known as Battle Mountain in the central upper part of Nevada. The scouts in Lynn’s patrol was instructed to kill any and all government troops they encountered while moving west on the trail. It was a simple and direct order from the old man. There was a newly established Homeland Security fortification located just off of Interstate Eighty which was a few miles south of the isolated city of Battle Mountain, Nevada, and this outpost was sending out ten men patrols several times a day. The reports filtering back to the Main Base in western Nevada was this Homeland Security outpost was manned mostly by foreign nationals from Cuba, Mexico and other countries from the southern hemisphere. High pay was their main motivation for being in the state and they were committing particularly violent acts on the civilians in the outlying area. The small party of scouts was to kill as many ten man government patrols that they could locate for two weeks and head back to the Secondary Base for some rest and relaxation.

The assignment seemed easy. The old man knew there were only two seasoned scouts in this five man crew.

“We are about thirty miles south of Battle Mountain, Janie. It will be getting dark in another hour. Do you want to make camp here for the night?” asked Emily.

“I’m not too keen on this spot Em. We are kind of out in the open in these mountains right now. It would be nice if we could find a small box canyon up ahead with some water or a group of big boulders off this trail that would offer us some security for tonight. I have seen a lot of horse tracks on the ground these past two days and I don’t think they are from our scout’s horses. This trail is getting a lot of recent travel. Does anyone have any suggestions?” asked Calamity Jane.

“I agree with you Janie. We are too visible on this part of the trail. If we camped anywhere nearby we sure as hell can’t have a campfire for tonight,” said Donnie.

Donnie was the kind of rookie scout who always had an opinion that he thought was better. With any suggestion from anyone, including the two experienced female scouts, an argument about what to do next would ensue.

“If I remember correctly the trail gets pretty tight up ahead and the sides of the mountains are steep, real steep. I am sure we can locate a couple of tight nooks or crannies in these mountains where we can strike a fire for the night and have a defensible position. I wonder what those gunshots were about we heard earlier today back down a ways on the trail towards the base? They didn’t sound like hunters’ rifles to me. The shots sounded like assault rifles but the gunshots didn’t last long. I checked my computer and Data said there were no other scout patrols in this area and he told me he wasn’t receiving any pings for scouts in this part of Nevada,” said Jane.

“We heard those shots three times today. It sounded to me like hunters maybe, but it was hard to tell from the echoes in these mountains. The shots kept getting nearer to our position during the day after every time we heard the echoes. It kind of has me worried,” said Emily.

“I am not sure about what kind of gunshots we heard today. The refraction of sound kind of skews what you hear from the echoes. I know one thing. The shots were powerful and they were close together, like an AK,” said Chris.

“Like an AK47?” asked Calamity Jane.

“Like an Ak47,” answered Chris looking around nervously.

The scout party rode for another ten minutes and they were approaching a narrow and protected part of the trail when suddenly, two loud shots rang out. Chris and Donnie both clutched their chests and fell off their horses. Two more shots rang out and the horses they were riding fell to the ground. Then several more shots echoed off the sides of the mountains in the narrow part of the Las Vegas Trail.

“Ambush!” yelled Jane.

As Calamity Jane jumped off her horse and hit the hard desert ground she saw Emily fall off her horse landing hard on the ground on her right shoulder. Emily’s horse immediately followed, crashing to the rock strewn floor beside her.

Lynn and Jane quickly dismounted and dove behind a large boulder. They watched in horror as both of their horses galloped up the trail to safety leaving them behind along with Donnie and Chris’s horses. The horses were carrying their long rifles. As they crouched behind the granite boulder several bullets ricocheted off the nearby rocks. The gunfire from down the trail which they had just traveled increased and the two women quickly realized that they were pinned down.

Jane took a quick peek from behind the boulder to see Emily lying on the ground near where Donnie, Chris and the Black Widow’s horse was lying. At least Emily was behind the body of her horse but she was not moving.

“Dammit! I think those fuckers got Em!” gasped Jane attempting to hold back her tears.

“We are not in a good location! They have us pinned down while it is still light and we don’t have any long guns with us! We are trapped and defenseless unless they get closer, where we can use our pistols, whoever they are! What should we do?” asked Lynn with a panicked voice.

The Night Ranger was scared and thinking about how shitty it would be to die on her first assignment.

Jane looked around at the surrounding terrain.

“Well, at least they won’t be able to get behind or above us because of those steep mountainsides, at least for a day or two. We will have to make our move when it gets dark I think. I hope they didn’t bring any night vision equipment but you can’t count on that. We will have to make our move a couple of hours after it gets dark and keep peeking out from behind this boulder in the meantime to make sure they ain’t advancing on our position. It doesn’t look good Lynn! We have to keep our wits about us if we are going to get out of this alive!”

“Can you see who they are?” asked Lynn.

“I can tell by their gunshots they are the Hussein Guard troops or bounty hunters. Those shots didn’t sound like any assault rifle!  Bastards! Probably foreign fuckers here to kill as many Americans as they can! Damn, I wish I had grabbed my AK47 when I jumped off my horse! At least we could have given them so thought when it comes to moving close on us!”

“It should be dark in forty five minutes or an hour. We will make our move then. We might be able to move quickly enough in the dark without getting shot. The nearest boulder is twenty yards away! That is a long run and the next big boulder is forty yards down the trail,” said Lynn.

Ten more minutes and the gunfire from down the mountain trail continued, ricocheting off the surrounding rocks and large boulders. For the entire ten minutes the gunfire was intense but suddenly, for some reason, the gunfire didn’t seem as intense. Another five more minutes passed and there was definitely less gunfire. Now a couple of shots would ring out every now and then. After five more minutes it was quiet.

“What is going on Jane? Why are they not firing? Are the assholes saving their ammo?” asked Lynn.

“I think so. They know they have us pinned down and that we are going nowhere for now and they are not gonna’ kill us as long as we stay behind this big rock. Let’s just keep taking a quick look around this boulder to make sure some of them are not moving up on us coming down the trail!”

Lynn peeked around from the left side of the boulder and quickly moved back to safety.

“I don’t see a thing. It is starting to get too dark to see.”

Ten more minutes passed and now the sky was turning black. The last gunshot the two women heard was many minutes ago.

“What do you think they are up to Janie?” whispered Lynn.

Jane stood up and took a quick peek over the top of the boulder then quickly knelt back down.

“I can still see down the trail to some extent because of the moonlight but I don’t see any horses or men moving about. They might be waiting us out until light. They know we have no water. I guess it is just a gamble for us if they have night vision equipment or not.”

Suddenly, just to their left on the ground they heard a sharp bark. Both women jumped in terror. Looking down to their left they saw a brown and white Jack Russell terrier.

“Schultz! He scared the shit out of me! Thank God!” said Lynn.

The little dog was wagging his tail and jumping up and down as if he was glad to see them. Lynn picked Schultz up in her arms and the terrier began to lick her face. She hugged the small dog tightly.

“I love you Schultz! I have never been so glad to see a dog!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Now we know why the shots diminished. The Reaper is here thank God!” added Janie.

Jane tentatively stood up and after hearing no gunshots she ran to where Emily was lying. Upon arriving at her prone body on the ground she rolled her over. Emily opened her blue eyes and forced a grin.

“You’re alive! Oh thank you God. Thank you God!” exclaimed Jane starting to cry.

“They got me through my upper shoulder Janie! I knew I had to play dead to keep from getting plugged again. I managed to move my hand to stop the flow of blood but I am hurt. What is going on? Why did those assholes quit shooting? Do you think the shit heads just up and left?” she asked softly

“They up and left all right! Francis got them!”

Jane stood up and started to yell.

“Francis! Francis! I need help!” she yelled.

“Francis…is here?” asked Emily.

“Schultz is over there in Lynn’s arms. If that little dog is here Francis is not far behind!” replied Jane.

Now it was dark. She heard a voice come out of the darkness from far away.

“Settle down Jane and be quiet! I think I got them all. I am still counting. I will be there in a few more minutes!”

Jane began to tend to Emily. Lynn went to check on Donnie and Chris and soon returned carrying an Ak47 slung on her back and Schultz still in her arms.

“Donnie and Chris have both been killed Jane! I grabbed Donnie’s AK47 that was lying on the ground. I guess he managed to take it out of the halter before he fell off his horse.”

“I hope Francis killed those damn Hussein bastards or whoever they were to where they died a slow death. Lynn, go up the trail a little ways and see if you can find our horses or a place to camp for tonight that will be safe, but don’t go too far.”

Lynn looked up the dark trail. Not knowing what was ahead she mulled over the decision to proceed in the dark.  Schultz began to struggle so she set the small dog on the ground. He took off into the darkness in the direction of Francis’s voice.

“I think I will stay right here until Francis gets here Jane. In fact, I think I will head down the trail in Francis’s direction to see if I can help him. Fuck going ahead on that dark ass trail. I will be right back.”

Lynn took off down the trail in the direction of the Reaper’s voice, looking for Francis.

She walked down the dark trail for five minutes staying in the shadows along the way when she was finally relieved to hear the clip clop of hooves, a lot of hooves. She wasn’t sure who was with Francis but there must be a lot of riders accompanying him from the sound of hooves.  There was a half moon this night and she peered down the darkened trail to see what was making such a sound. In the distance she could make out the silhouette of a man on a horse with a smaller animal walking beside him. Thirty seconds later she could see three smaller dark figures rapidly coming in her direction, two large ones and a very small one. They were running at a full tilt.

Sarge and Major were the first to arrive in front of her and both big dogs were wagging their tails but not barking or making any unnecessary sounds. The smaller animal soon arrived and he was just the opposite. He was yapping his head off.  She knelt to the ground and embraced both the big Shepherds, crying softly. While she knelt the Jack Russell terrier leaped off the ground at a full run and landed on her chest. She caught him in her arms while falling backwards on her butt in a sitting position. All three animals were licking her face. They were happy to see her. She continued to hug all three animals while still crying for a minute or two. Then she heard a familiar voice.

“Sitzen!”

The two German Shepherds at first ignored the command but after several seconds they both sat beside Lynn while the terrier continued to wag his tail while in her arms and lick her face.

“Schultz, sitzen!” commanded Francis sternly.

Finally the terrier struggled to get out of her arms, hit the ground and sat on the ground between her legs.

“Good boys,” said Francis, as he tossed a small dog biscuit to each dog.

“God Francis, I am so glad you are here!” she said softly while wiping her tears.

“Who got killed?” asked the Reaper.

“Donnie and Chris were shot and so was Em, through her shoulder. It looks like a bad wound. Janie and I survived,” she said while getting to her feet.

“How bad is Em? Is she awake?”

“It looks pretty bad to me but she’s awake and talking.”

Francis dismounted Midnight and walked to Lynn. She embraced the young man for a long moment, not wanting to let go of his muscular body. The young male scout held her body for a long moment while watching his dogs’ behavior.

“I want you to get on Midnight and ride him to where Jane is. I will take Betty’s reins and walk beside you. I think we are okay for the moment.”

Lynn walked to Midnight and looking behind the black stallion saw a long line of horses with supplies, saddles and guns. There were many horses with saddles that bore the Homeland Security insignia. She said nothing and did as she was told.

“Spyher!” commanded Francis while pointing down the trail.

Instantly the three dogs took off down the trail in the dark from where Francis just came. Lynn watched as the dog pack disappeared in the dark behind the long line of horses.

“What did you just tell the dogs to do Francis?”

“I just told them to go scout for now down the trail. I don’t believe anyone is nearby or tailing us but there might be some bounty hunters nearby in this part of the mountains. The dogs will be back in five or so minutes and they will warn us if there is any more trouble.  Let’s go get Janie and Em,” he replied softly with his low, gruff voice.

He took Betty’s reins and proceeded to walk up the trail, followed by Lynn and the herd of horses. In five minutes he was at the scene of the ambush. He paused for a brief moment to look at the Emily’s dead horse and the bodies of the two dead male scouts lying face down on the hard desert floor.

Janie did the same thing Lynn did, ran and hugged the young man. Jane was not crying.

“Oh thank God it’s you Francis. I thought we were dead!” exclaimed the redheaded scout.

Francis said nothing as he went to Emily who was lying on her back with Jane’s leather coat under her head for a pillow.

He knelt down and produced a small flashlight.

“Francis, I am so glad you are here! What took you so long?” she asked weakly.

“Betty ain’t the fastest mule in the world and I was busy all day long. Look’s like you forgot to duck this time Em. Jane, get me a canteen of water for now. Are you hurting bad Em?”

“Not really. It burns a little. It is just like I heard from other scouts when they got shot. Where you get shot at in that part of the body, it just goes numb. Is it bad Francis?”

“I will take a look but it doesn’t look good. It’s a good thing you stopped the blood flow. I am going to cut your shirt to take a look.”

“Damn! This is my favorite shirt! It is my good luck shirt!”

“I think you can throw it away after tonight Em.”

Jane ran to Midnight and grabbed Francis’s canteen while Lynn dismounted Midnight.

“I think the bastards got Lennie!” exclaimed Emily.

“Yeah, the bastards got Lennie, Em. You are going to need a new horse to ride.”

“What about the new boys?” asked Emily while gnawing her teeth.

“They didn’t make it Em,” replied Francis.

Emily started to cry.

“They were nice boys. It is a shame they got killed on their first ride.”

“Yes it is but that shit happens. You need to settle down for now Emily. Crying won’t do you any good. I need to take a look at this wound and you being upset won’t help me.”

“Okay Francis. I will try not getting upset. I have been riding Lennie for four years.”

“You are more upset about the damn horse than you are about the two new guys? Damn, Em, settle down!” exclaimed Calamity Jane while shaking her head.

Francis grinned slightly and set about to take care of the Black Widow.

“Lynn, get down the trail with that AK47 that is fastened to my saddle. It has a silencer and a night vision scope. Stay close to the last two horses and scope the mountains and the trail. And don’t get nervous and accidentally shoot one of my dogs when they return.. They will be coming back soon. If they are hauling ass they have found something up in the mountains or coming down the trail. If that’s the case hold your position. Schultz will come and get me if trouble is coming our way.”

Lynn went to Midnight and grabbed Francis’s AK47 and took off down the trail. At first she started to run.

“And don’t run! Walk!” said Francis firmly.

Lynn turned to Francis and nodded her head, then walked down the trail with his AK47 in her hands..

“Was she scared?” asked Francis as the Night Ranger left.

“The Night Ranger? Hell yeah she was scared! So was I! Who was it and where did they come from? Where were they firing from?”

“I will answer your questions later tonight Janie. Em, can you sit up?”

“I think so. My shoulder just throbs for now,” she answered through gritted teeth.

Francis helped her to sit up while Jane offered her support from behind, propping her upper body in a sitting position by using her arms. She saw that the back of Emily’s shirt was soaked with blood. The bullet had gone through her body.

“Ow! That hurts!” she moaned.

“I bet so. Let’s take a look.”

Francis pulled out a sharp skinning knife and cut away her cotton long sleeve shirt. Using the small flashlight he looked over the wound.

“You are lucky. It was a small caliber weapon, probably a twenty two rifle. The bullet went through your body just below your collar bone. For right now I will patch you up temporarily with some adhesives to stop any bleeding. We need to move up the trail to a more secure place so I can do more, like stitching you up. We are sitting ducks at this location. There is a nice box canyon one mile up the trail with water. We will stay there for tonight. You can ride with me on Midnight. In the meantime take two of these pills for the pain. Give me the canteen Janie.”

Then he turned off the small flashlight.

“What are those?” asked Emily.

“You know what they are. They are Zak’s pain pills, oxycodine. I have a bottle full of them. Never used them before but I have heard from the Pale Rider they work well and they work quickly for pain. Take the pills and you stay here with Jane. I need to go check on Lynn and the dogs. I will be back in a few minutes. Be ready to get the hell out of here.”

Jane administered the pills to Emily while Francis took off down the trail, walking slowly. There were forty horses tethered to Betty following behind. It was a long line but the government horses were standing still, not making a sound and being obedient.

As Francis got to the end of the line of horses he saw Lynn moving from one side of the horses at the end of the line to the other. He stopped to observe her actions for a long minute. She was using the AK47 to scope the dark mountains. He finally kicked a rock to get her attention.

“I know you are behind me Francis. I see something on the mountain on the left about eight hundred yards away. I think there are two men up there.”

The dog pack came barreling down the dark trail. This time there was no yapping. When Francis saw his animals he knew there was still more trouble. The dogs were hauling ass in a zig zag pattern, just like he taught them to do when there were snipers nearby. When they arrived at Francis and Lynn’s location the two Shepherds sat down and the terrier turned facing the trail.  The Jack Russell terrier became stiff, lifting his front right leg and pointing in the direction of the mountain where Lynn thought she saw movement. Then all three dogs moved beneath the horses to temporarily hide.

“That is not good. They sniffed out something, probably the men’s horses. We have unwanted company, who I don’t know. Stay on this side of the horses and let me have that rifle. Keep your head down low woman. They may be good shots but I doubt it. That is a long shot and there are too many of us. If they are bounty hunters, they want to kill all of us at the same time. There is some big reward money on this trail right now.”

Lynn handed Francis his AK47 and then she removed the AK47 from her back, holding the weapon in her hands.

“That AK47 won’t do you any good from this distance. I can tell it hasn’t been sighted but keep it ready.”

“What are we gonna’ do Francis?

“I’m gonna’ kill one of them, maybe both of them. When I get one of those bastards then that will surely slow the other one down. There is no telling how many of them are up there. Once we get to a secure location some time tonight I will come back and kill the other one or all of them if I don’t get them now.”

“How do you know they are bad guys? Were they the ones that shot at us?”

“I know they are bad guys from experience woman, from experience. Who else would have shot our scouts out here? Do you always ask so many questions?”

Francis set his AK47 on the rump of the government horse that was last in the long line. At the end of his weapon he unfolded two small legs.

“Go to the front of the horse and speak with him softly. Stroke his cheek and keep him still. This is one long shot.”

Lynn went to the front of the horse and began to whisper to him. The rookie scout stroked the left cheek of the horse’s face, holding his reins. She watched as Francis peered through his fancy scope and made several adjustments. He appeared to be in no hurry. He fiddled with his scope for several long seconds.

“You did good girl. I can see them. There are two of them standing on that ridge at eight hundred yards looking down at us with binoculars.”

“Can’t they see you with your rifle?”

Francis pulled the trigger on his AK47. The rifle made a dull sound because of an attached sound suppressor. It was a sound you could hear if you were close but not from eight hundred yards away. He made the sound four times and continued to watch through his scope. Finally he raised his head.

“The answer to your question is probably not. We won’t have to worry about them tonight.”

“You shot them?”

“I plugged the one on the right using the binoculars in the center of his chest. The second one I hit too, but I don’t think I killed him. But he is wounded and won’t be moving in the dark tonight. Later on I might leave for awhile and finish the job. Right now we need to get Emily to a safe place. The drugs should be helping her by now. Good job guys!”

He reached in his right coat pocket and gave each dog a small dog biscuit. Schultz, as always, got the first one.

“Spyher!” he said pointing up the trail.

The three dogs took off up the trail in the dark.

He and Lynn walked briskly up the trail to where Jane and Emily were located.

“Here is what we are going to do ladies. Janie, you get that fancy AK47 you have and get this line of horses moving up the trail. Walk beside the lead horse and scope out the mountain on the right. If the dogs come barreling down the trail towards you they have found something ahead of us. If it is a predator like a mountain lion they will bark. If Schultz barks there are humans ahead…somewhere. Use that night scope while you walk. I will ride with Emily about ten horses behind you. Lynn, you take the rear and stay close to the horses. Don’t stay in the rear and make yourself an easy target. I don’t think there were more than two but you never know out here. Just keep scoping those mountains. At least now any other scum ball bounty hunters in the area know about the shot I just did if they are affiliated with the two I just plugged. They won’t be out in the open using their binoculars to see what we are doing. Before we go I need to patch up Em.”

He walked over to Betty and knew which canvas bag to open. He came back with a black box in hand. Opening the container Lynn saw that it was an elaborate first aid kit. Francis pulled out two four inch square adhesive patches. He put one on Emily’s wound in the front and moved to her back and applied the other.

“Those patches will stick real well and will stop the blood from flowing freely. We will have to use a dissolver to remove them once we settle in somewhere. Even with a dissolver solution you are in for a world of hurt Em when I rank those patches off.”

“You are such a fun date Francis,” she replied while gritting her teeth.

The female scout was attempting to be tough but the pain was beginning to grow in her shoulder.

Francis, who was six feet four inches tall, picked up Emily without any effort and carried her over to Midnight. He gently lifted the female scout up on his saddle. Emily gritted her teeth once again, moaning just a little, but did not cry out in pain. Francis then mounted Midnight to sit behind her, wrapping his muscular arms around her upper body to steady her.

“Let’s get moving ladies,” he said softly holding onto Emily.

Lynn moved to the rear of the herd with Francis’ AK47 and Jane went to the front with her assault rifle. With forty plus horses in tow it wasn’t the quietest ride in the west.

“How you doing Em?” whispered Francis in her left ear.

“I am feeling better Francis, especially since you wrapped those big arms around me. In fact, I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

“That’s pretty funny Em. I ain’t trying to get a free feel here for all my work,” he answered with a soft laugh.

Emily was a very good looking and well endowed young woman. She giggled.

“We should do this more often without me getting shot. I think it would be a hell of lot more fun.”

“Just relax for now Em. We will be safe in another thirty minutes or so. You are going to make it. It will be something to tell your kids one day.”

After five minutes moving up the trail the dog pack came trotting down the trail.

“That’s a good sign Em. The dog pack is telling us that there is no trouble ahead.”

“Good dogs,” she muttered.

The dogs came to Midnight and walked beside the horse, looking up at Francis while waiting on a command. The pack knew it was time to work and that Emily was hurt.

“Sarge, Schultz,  schutz!” said Francis softly pointing to Jane at the point of the line of horses.

The two dogs moved to the front to walk ahead of Jane who was busy using her scope.

“Major, schutz!” he said pointing to the rear. The big brown Shepherd trotted to the rear to walk along with Lynn.

“Your animals are amazing Francis,” said Emily softly.

Francis could tell she was hurting but he knew from experience that her wound was not life threatening. He also knew that she would possibly have to see a doctor as soon as possible. Only time would tell.

“They have saved my life countless times. I think the big brown one has a crush on Lynn,” he said as they continued to move down the trail to the box canyon.

“I know she has a crush on you…and maybe the mutts. That is all she talked about around the campfire the first night out and all day on the trail. That is all we heard from her was you and the dogs, you and the dogs all day long. Donnie and Chris finally told her to zip it which pissed her off. I think she also has a hankering for you. She is a good looking woman and she’s smart. She has learned her scout lessons well. Too bad this happened on her first assignment.”

“She’s getting a lesson tonight, that’s for sure. She is a good looking girl. She reminds me of the Pale Rider.”

Emily giggled.

“She has a long way to go to be another Pale Rider.”

“Don’t we all?  Shsshh! Quit talking and save your strength Em,” whispered Francis.

“I will if you hold me a little tighter.”

Francis grinned and shook his head, then held Emily tighter in his arms.

Twenty minutes later the line of horses stopped. Francis spurred Midnight and moved up to where Jane was with Sarge and Schultz.

They were at the entrance to a small box canyon. The dark opening was only twenty feet in width.

Francis took a metal tube that always hung on a small stainless steel chain on his neck. He placed the tube in his mouth and blew. Ten seconds later Major was standing beside Midnight along with Sarge and Schultz.

“Spyher,” he said softly while pointing at the opening.

The pack of dogs trotted into the dark opening cautiously, sniffing the air and ground as they went.

“What does that mean Francis?” asked Jane watching the three dogs leave.

“It means to scout Janie. I doubt if there are any men in there because they would have let us know by now but there might be some animals in there like wild horses, deer or maybe a mountain lion. There is a small clean pond in there on the left side of the canyon. There are a lot of streams around this part of Nevada but I have flushed deer out of this canyon before. You need to stand here beside the horses until the dogs come out. You don’t need to be trampled by a deer out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, or be clawed by a scared mountain lion either. I have seen a few of them in my travels in these mountains,” replied Jane.

“Will the dogs be making a lot of noise, like barking?” asked Emily.

“The little one will yap once to get the deer moving. The big ones will do the rest. They work as a team. That is what they were bred to do, shepherd.”

One minute later four deer barreled out of the entrance to the box canyon at full speed. A minute later the dog pack was standing at the entrance, wagging their tails. For them the assignment was fun.

“Good boys,” said Francis.

He reached into his coat pocket and threw three dog biscuits to the mutts, the first one going to Schultz.

“That was fast! How big is this canyon?” asked Jane.

“You have never been here? I didn’t know that. It is small, ten acres at the most but the canyon walls are steep and sheer. It is a good place to hole up for a day or two. Get on that front horse and lead the way Janie. Here is a flashlight you can use until we get a campfire going.”

As Jane was walking to the lead horse there was a surprise. The two horses that had fled the shooting earlier walked out of the entrance to the box canyon.

“Well, I’ll be damned! That’s my horse and Lynn’s horse Butch! I was hoping we would find them.”

Jane herded the two horses back into the canyon and the rest of the herd followed.

“Do you think you can ride in there for the next minute or two, Em? Can you stay in the saddle?”

“Yeah, I can manage for now if you give me a hug before you leave me Francis.”

Francis gave her a gentle hug and dismounted Midnight. The two Shepherds escorted Midnight while Schultz walked with Francis to the rear to find Lynn. Walking to the back of the line of horses he saw the young woman using his AK47 scoping out the terrain. Schultz ran ahead and yapped once to let her know he was behind her. Lynn continued to scope the mountains ignoring the terrier. He knew she was working and started to trot alongside her looking around as if he was working too.

“Have you seen anything Lynn?”

“Not anything nearby, but look through your scope to that big mountain far away.”

She pointed to a distant large mountain that was a good thirty miles away. Francis took his rifle and peered through his powerful scope. He could see a good sized campfire high up on the side of the mountain.

“That is a campfire built by the Hussein Guard. Where they are at presently is a good four day ride from here. They are the only idiots in these mountains who would build a visible campfire like that. Before we blew up FEMA Camp 37 the second time they never would light up a campfire that large. It would be an invitation to any scout to go kill them. We don’t own the mountains like we used to. Cocky bastards!”

“Plus they don’t have to worry about bounty hunters like we do.”

“Those bastards are worse. The scum of the Earth! Most of them are foreigners but the worst are the Americans who have joined them in their efforts. I plan on killing them all,” said the Reaper.”

The two scouts started to follow the last of the horses with Schultz bringing up the rear.

“So we are at the box canyon you were speaking of?”

“Yep. We may have to camp there a couple of days until Emily gets stronger so she can ride. She lost a fair amount of blood tonight.”

“Thank God! I am tired as hell!”

Francis laughed.

“We still have a lot to do girl! Once we set up our camp I need to play doctor, maybe stitch up Emily’s two wounds. I have a good medical kit. We will know by tomorrow night if she needs a doctor or not. If she does we will have to move fast. At least we have enough horses to pull that off but I hope we don’t have to.”

“How are we going to feed all the horses? How many are there?”

“There are forty eight government horses. I took care of three ten man patrols before I got to you, Emily and Jane. The ones I took out that ambushed you were the fourth today.”

“So you were the one responsible for the gunshots were heard earlier in the day! You knew we were in trouble!” exclaimed Lynn.

“I will tell you about it later tonight after we set up our camp and establish a security perimeter but yes I knew you were in trouble yesterday. We have a lot of work still to do tonight. Tomorrow we can rest…for a while.

*****

Chapter Four

Box Canyon Camping

Entering the box canyon Francis pulled a large powerful flashlight out of one of Betty’s canvas bags. Having a strong flashlight was an essential tool for moving around in the Nevada wilderness for a scout. Having someone in the group who was familiar with the surrounding terrain was a plus.

“Now let’s see, if I remember correctly there is a nice small nook just to the left of the entrance about one hundred feet away. It is a perfect place to build a campfire that wouldn’t be seen by anyone from afar or passing on the trail during the night. It’s plenty big enough to hold our horses, at least the ones we ride, and Betty. Plus there will be enough room for our tents. We can pile the government saddles and supplies nearby and turn the government horses loose in the canyon to graze on the scrub brush. In the morning we will sort things out and take what we want with us if we have to move out.  Let the government horses wander in the canyon for the night. They will stay close to the pond and the dogs won’t let them wander out of the box canyon during the night.”

Francis pulled his reins to the left and just like he said after traveling one hundred feet there was a dark nook. He shined the flashlight into the opening and saw nothing but desert floor and boulders.

“Stay here on Midnight, Emily. I will be right back. Janie, you and Lynn start taking the saddles and other shit off the horses. Just pile them up somewhere for now. Take out your headlamps and use them until we get a campfire started in this nook. Watch out for rattlesnakes.”

When Francis dismounted, he pulled out a snake charmer from one of his gun holsters attached to his saddle. Then he walked into the dark nook. While removing the saddles the three women heard two quick shots echo out of the nook..

Francis came out of the darkness. He had his smoking snake charmer tucked under his right arm. He had his flashlight in his right hand. In his left hand he had two good sized desert rattlesnakes by their tales. Both had shattered heads.

“I will go across the trail and throw these suckers in the rocks for the scavengers in the desert. Jane, go to the blue canvas bag on Betty and get those snake shields I have tucked at the end of the zipper. You and Lynn put them on for now until we are sure of what we have in here. Where there’s two rattlers there are probably more so watch where you walk and don’t reach in places that you can’t see what is lurking there. We don’t need to be dealing with any snakebite, not tonight.”

Francis proceeded to walk out the box canyon entrance with his dog pack into the darkness. Jane went to Betty, unzipped the blue canvas bag and soon had two green tubes in her hands.

“Nice. I wonder where he found these,” said Jane.

“What are they?” asked Lynn.

“Fiberglass snake shields. They are hard to find in these days and times. I have been trying to get a pair for a couple of years now. I think I just found me a pair.”

“How come we don’t have a pair? We are scouts, aren’t we?”

“Good damn question! Here, there is a pair for you.”

“What about Francis?” asked Lynn.

“Don’t worry about Francis! He has those three dogs. They will let him know if a snake is nearby.”

Jane and Lynn slipped the snake shields on their legs.

“One size fits all. If your ass is worth a hundred government credits you should have a pair, if you can find them,” laughed Jane.

Francis returned with the dog pack, set up Emily in the nook area, instructed the dogs to guard and went to work setting up and securing the camp. So did Jane and Lynn.

Fifteen minutes later Emily was flat on her back with Francis kneeling alongside her holding a syringe. Jane was pulling guard duty with the dogs in the shadows of the entrance to the box canyon. Lynn was assisting Francis holding his powerful flashlight.

“I am going to give you two shots Em, once I remove the adhesives. One shot is for pain and the other is medicine that will help you heal.”

“Where in the hell did you get this stuff Doctor Francis?” asked Em.

She grinned at Lynn. She was feeling fine after downing a couple of more oxycodines and swigging on a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey Francis had provided. Lynn grinned back.

Francis ripped off the front bandage and plunged the needle into her shoulder just above the bullet hole. Emily said nothing which surprised everyone.

“Didn’t that hurt Em?” asked Lynn.

“I feel no pain Lynn,” she replied, slightly slurring her words.

“I want to know too, Francis. Where did you get this stuff? Where did you get the training?” asked Jane, closely watching what he was doing.

Francis continued to work not bothering to answer at first. After a minute he finally spoke.

“I escorted Doc to North Las Vegas three years ago to get some medical supplies. During the trip I hounded him to make me up a kit that I could use if I ever got wounded and to show me what would need to be done if that ever happened. It took us four weeks to get the supplies and get back to the Secondary Camp and Doc worked with me every night. That was one boring trip but I learned a lot. When we returned to the Secondary Base I told Zak that from that point on I was riding alone to kill the enemy. That was when Doc gave me a black bag the day I left. I keep up on its contents and I have found it handy at times.”

Francis started to stitch up Emily’s wound. He looked like he had stitched before.

“Have you ever used it before?” asked Lynn.

“Used what?”

“Have you ever used your doctor’s bag before this night?”

“Oh, hell yeah. I have cut once on me two years ago, twice on Midnight in the past and a couple of times on the dogs.”

“You are stitching me up with a needle you used on that little mutt?”  asked Emily with a laugh while looking at Schultz who was sitting near her head.

“No. Schultz is the only one who hasn’t been shot so far. I reckon he is too small a target, too fast a target and too smart. You need to turn on your belly Em. I am halfway done. How do you feel?”

“Great for a person who has been shot,” she answered slurring her words.

“No more drugs or booze tonight Em.”

“Party pooper,” she answered.

By the time he finished removing the adhesive bandage, stitching up the wound on her back shoulder, dressing her wounds and cleaning up Emily she was sound asleep.

“Is she alive?” asked Lynn with a grin.

“She is doing fine. Would you please grab a couple of blankets and cover her up to the back of her neck? We need to make sure she is warm tonight to conserve her energy to start the healing process. That shot of antibiotics will help her get a strong start. Tonight is going to be a brisk night and she needs to stay warm.”

Lynn went to Butch and Betty. She came back carrying two heavy cotton blankets. After making sure Emily was warm she threw another small log on the tight campfire.

“Okay, I will be back in a half hour or maybe a little longer,” said Francis.

“What do you want me to do now?”

“I reckon stay here and watch Em.”

“I think Emily will be fine for the next half hour Francis. She is knocked out and sleeping with a smile on her face.  What can I do to help you?”

Francis paused for a long moment, then took out one of his thin small cigars and lit it.

“You sure you want to help me?”

“I never have been so sure of something like that in my life. It is the least I can do to repay you for saving me and my friend’s lives.”

Francis paused for a long moment and eyeballed the pretty brunette.

“Okay. Grab two of those government horses grazing down by the lake and bring them back here. I need to get a few items out of Betty’s canvas bags. And don’t run, walk and watch out for rattlers.”

Lynn walked one hundred yards to the banks of the small pond using a small flashlight and retrieved two government horses. When she returned to the campfire Francis was waiting with a few items in a small canvas bag.

“Follow me Lynn,” he said turning to the entrance to the box canyon.

Lynn did as she was told holding the reins to the two horses. When they got to the entrance where Jane and the dogs were on guard duty Francis turned and emitted a low whistle. Midnight came out of the box canyon to stand behind Francis.

“Are you going to take care of Donnie and Chris?” asked Jane softly.

“Yes. We can’t be sitting here for the night while the desert scavengers start eating up their bodies. We are going to walk so we will be back in forty five minutes or a little longer. Sarge, wache!”

Francis pointed at Jane and north down the trail. The black German Shepherd moved about ten feet away and disappeared in the shadows. He could not be seen because of his black fur.

“Major, wache!”

He pointed at Jane and then in the opposite direction down the trail.

“Schultz, wache!”

He then pointed at Jane and down to the ground where he stood.

“What was that word?” asked Lynn.

“It’s the German command for guard. I told them to guard the trail and Jane. Let’s get going lady.”

He headed down the trail on foot to where Donnie and Chris had been killed earlier that night. Midnight, Lynn and the two government horses followed. It was a slow pace. Francis never seemed to be in any hurry to go anywhere and he was attempting to move as quietly as possible.

After fifteen minutes of making their way down the trail in the moonlight Lynn heard a sound coming from behind. She turned just in time to see a small object run by her feet. The animal continued at a brisk trot to pass by Francis. Ten feet in front of the young man he turned to look over his shoulder briefly and then continued to walk at the front. Schultz was taking the point of the small column.

Francis said nothing. Lynn wanted to laugh but she knew better.

It took fifteen more minutes to reach the site of the ambush. Schultz disappeared into the darkness down the trail. He didn’t need a command to go check to see if things were as they seemed.

Francis bent over and turned Donnie’s body over to where the deceased scout was lying on his back. Then Francis went over to Chris’s body and did the same.

He then took what looked like a black blanket out of his canvas bag.

“Are we going to wrap his body up in the blanket?” asked Lynn.

“No. This is better than any blanket. It is a body bag. I always carry a few of those wherever I go”

Lynn didn’t know what to say at first.

“What can I do Francis?”

“Tie those two horses to Midnight’s saddle horn for now. Then you can go over to Emily’s horse and unfasten the saddle. We will put the saddle on one of the government horses in a few minutes once we are ready. Look around and retrieve any weapons or items that might have fell off or out of the saddle bags when the horse hit the ground.”

Schultz returned and hopped up on a small boulder, watching.

Lynn did as Francis instructed. While unhitching the halter she watched as Francis removed personal items from the dead scouts’ bodies, including their pistols. He then unzipped a black body bag and rolled Donnie’s body into its interior. Then he zipped the body bag closed. He did the same procedure with Chris. He stood for a moment over the two black bags in the moonlight. Lynn wasn’t sure if he was saying a prayer or not. He then walked over to Lynn.

“What kind of pistol do you carry?” he asked.

“I have a nine millimeter Baretta,” answered Lynn.

Francis handed a gun belt containing two holsters and two guns.

“Here. Start wearing these and learn how to use them. These were Donnie’s guns. Sometime tonight grab his saddlebag with the ammo and carry it on Butch. Those are the guns to own out here in these badlands. At least Donnie knew what to carry.”

Lynn looked at the holsters and guns.

“You like Colt 1911s? They are hard guns to find or so I have been told.”

“Yes they are, for a reason. If you shoot someone with one of those the fight is over.”

“They only have a seven shot magazine. I like the fifteen shot Baretta.”

“Trust me lady. Learn to use that Colt. It will save your life one day. You have two of them now. That means you have fourteen shots. That means you can kill fourteen people before you have to reload. And don’t forget to get the extra clips out of Donnie’s saddle bags. I have seen men shoot a Hussein Guard agent six or seven times with a nine millimeter and not drop him. With a forty five caliber Colt you will need only one shot.”

Lynn looked at Francis’ holsters.

“I see you carry two.”

Francis opened his leather coat to reveal four more Colt 1911s in holsters strapped to his body.

“Don’t take my word for it. Go ask the Pale Rider. She started out with modified Colts. If you think you need more than seven shots the guys at the base in the machine shop can make you some modified clips that will contain fifteen shots. The guns won’t fit in genuine Colt holsters very well but you can get those made too. I just solved the problem by carrying more forty five pistols.”

“Okay, I will practice with the Colts. I was watching you place Donnie and Chris in the body bags. It looked to me that you have done this before.”

“I have done it a few times in my life. Go get the two government horses and bring them over here, please.”

Lynn hopped up and retrieved the two horses. She held their reins to keep them still as Francis yanked the saddle off the dead Secondary Base horse lying on the ground. When he placed the saddle on the horse Lynn went to work securing the halters and guns.

Lynn watched silently as Francis grabbed one of the black bags, easily lifting it on his wide shoulder and placed the body bag across the saddle. He did the same with the second bag.

He then took some coiled rope off one of the saddles and secured the bodies to each saddle. He finally walked over to Midnight and jumped on his horse. Midnight had no saddle.

“You ever rode bareback?” he asked looking down at Lynn on the ground.

“No.”

“It’s not too bad, at least for a short distance. Here, I will help you mount. Grab my hand with your right hand and turn sideways to Midnight. Then jump,” he said extending his left hand.

Lynn grabbed his hand and in one smooth, strong move she was sitting on Midnight in front of Francis.

“Okay, let’s get moving,” said Francis.

Schultz started to softly whine while still sitting on the small boulder.

“What? You can’t walk?” asked Francis.

“He wants to ride with us Francis! Let me down on the ground and I will hand him to you.”

“You don’t have to do that with that little shit head. Just hold your left foot out from Midnight and lock you ankle. Hold your foot rigid now. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Schultz was now standing on the boulder, wagging his tail.

Francis pointed at Lynn’s left foot.

“Einbauen,” he said softly.

The small animal bolted off the boulder and in four strides hit Lynn’s rigid foot and landed on Midnight’s back directly in front of Lynn. She caught the little dog with her hands to ensure his safe landing. Schultz sat down looking straight ahead up the trail. He had done this trick before.

Riding Midnight they were back at the box canyon within minutes. Jane and the two Shepherds watched as Francis and Lynn, along with Shultz ambled through the entrance and into the nook. The two government horses followed carrying the bodies.

Lynn hopped down to the ground holding the Jack Russell terrier in her arms. Francis slid off of Midnight and walked over to where Emily was lying on a sleeping bag.

“She hasn’t stirred. Let me feed the dogs and then we will eat. You can put that brat on the ground Lynn. If you don’t, he will let you carry him around all night long. Plus, he is trying to start some shit with Major because he knows Major likes you. Schultz can become an attention whore in a flash.”

She bent over and released Schultz. Francis pointed to the entrance to the canyon and sternly commanded.

“Schutz!”

The little dog bolted to the entrance where Jane was standing.

Francis walked to Betty and removed three cans from one of her bags. He also had three aluminum bowls. He sat down by the campfire and using a can opener opened the cans, emptying them in the bowls.

“I don’t usually use up my canned dog food out in the wilderness but they earned this treat tonight. The mutts did well.”

He took the small tube hanging around his neck and blew into one end.

Ten seconds later the three dogs barreled into the nook and sat down in front of each bowl. They were licking their mouths eyeing Francis intently. He sat on his wood stool looking back at each one. Then he pointed at their bowls.

“Essen!”

The three hungry dogs began to wolf down their food in the bowls.

“You tell them when to eat dinner?” asked Lynn.

“Absolutely! That way I don’t wind up with a poisoned dog.”

The three mutts finished their meal and sat in front of Francis. He petted and hugged each one, reaching into his right coat pocket giving each of them a dog biscuit. As always, the alpha male received the first biscuit.

“Can I have some of those?” asked Lynn.

“Have some of what?”

“May I have some of those dog biscuits?”

“You won’t like them. They taste terrible. I know because I tried to eat one of them before.”

“No silly! I would like some so I could reward the dogs for good behavior!”

“I don’t know about that woman. You would have probably given Schultz a biscuit when he broke my command and followed us down the trail tonight when I told him to stay and guard Janie.”

“He obeyed your command! You just didn’t tell him how long he had to stay!”

Francis laughed.

“I reckon so. That knucklehead has a mind of his own. There is a big cardboard box in Betty’s stuff on the ground in the green canvas bag. Get what you want.”

Lynn jumped up and walked over to the mule. She petted the grey animal and spoke with her for a long minute. Then she walked over to where Betty’s supplies were on the ground for the night. She located the green bag and opened it up. Inside was a very large cardboard box. If was filled with small biscuits. She stuffed her left and right coat pockets with as many dog biscuits as the pockets could hold. Then she went back to the campfire where Francis had started to cook supper.

“Where did you get the hotdogs?” she asked.

“I grabbed a couple of packs before I left the Secondary Camp. They last a couple of days in this cold mountain air, so I need to cook them tonight. The guys love hot dogs, especially when they are wrapped in bacon. I grabbed two pounds of bacon too, along with some buns and packets of ketchup and mustard. We are gonna’ have a good dinner tonight. After that, it is back to fresh kill or dry goods and canned meat.”

He put a small iron skillet on some rocks where it was sitting above the fire and threw some bacon slabs in its interior.

“This will be about the only night we will be able to cook bacon anyways. You can smell bacon cooking from miles away. Schutz!” he said pointing to the entrance of the box canyon.

The three dogs sat on their haunches not moving, watching the bacon cook. They were not going to guard anything except the bacon cooking in the iron skillet.

“Schutz!” said Francis again.

The dogs looked furtively at Francis and then at the skillet with the bacon.

“You brats!”

Francis got off his wood stool and went to his saddle bags.

“Watch the bacon for a minute or two Lynn! I will go get Jane!”

In his hand he had three small black tubes.

“What are you doing Francis? What are those black tubes?”

“We need security. I am going to send Jane back to eat. In the meantime I will set these devices in place on the trail. They are motion sensitive bombs with a laser trip activation system. Anything taller than four feet coming down the trail will be blown to bits and that will let us know if we have company. I was going to set them in place anyway later on tonight. You guys and I are going to have a little training session tomorrow,” he said glaring at his dogs.

Lynn continued to attend to the bacon. The three dogs sat less than six feet away from the campfire. Slobber was dripping off their mouths. By the time Francis returned with Jane, Lynn had a metal pan full of freshly cooked bacon. There were two pounds of bacon to be exact. The dogs were keeping a sharp eye on the pan but did not move.

“Man that sure smells great! I am hungry!” exclaimed Jane sitting down.

Francis produced some sticks and started to cook the hot dogs while Lynn got the buns ready.

Emily started to stir, rolled over and sat up.

“Something smells good,” she said groggily.

“Here, cook the hot dogs Lynn. I almost forgot. I will be right back.”

Then he disappeared into the darkness of the box canyon.

“I wonder what he forgot.  All the supplies are in this nook,” said Jane.

Soon Francis returned with a six pack of Pepsi.

“They are ice cold ladies. I put them in that small stream coming out of the canyon wall that empties into the lake.”

He handed a can to each of the female scouts. Just as he said the soda was ice cold.

“Unbelievable! Can we stay until it gets light so I can see this box canyon?” asked Jane.

“We ain’t going anywhere for a day or two so you will get to see the canyon. I am surprised you haven’t seen it before Janie. Haven’t you and Em traveled this trail before?”

“A couple of times in the past five years but we never stopped because we were always in a hurry. We never knew that it existed.”

“That’s the advantage of traveling with my Betty. We always take our time. It drives the old man crazy. How are you feeling Em? You have only been sleeping for a half hour.”

“I’m feeling better but my shoulder is sore. I reckon I can ride when it gets light.”

“We ain’t going anywhere tomorrow until you feel better and your wound looks okay. I butterfly stitched the bullet holes so we should know more about what to do in two days. We are fairly safe here. It ain’t like we are on some major road out here and I know there ain’t any Homeland Security patrols within two days ride of us. The only thing we have to worry about tomorrow is bounty hunters. We will check the notebook computers after we eat and be better informed about what to do next, plus I will send a message to Zak to let him know what is going on.”

Everyone ate two hot dogs and Jane had jarred loose with a can of Pringles chips to go with the meal. Francis brought out his whiskey bottle and everyone had a few shots chased by ice cold Pepsi except for Emily. Francis told her she had had enough alcohol for the night. Supper was just about over.

“The guys look hungry Francis. Can I give each of them a dog biscuit?” asked Lynn.

Francis laughed.

“They won’t eat it! Those three mutts can count better than most people. They can see that there are six hotdogs left in that skillet and a pile of bacon in the metal pan. All three of them love bacon dogs. If you feed them just make sure they each get two and that Schultz is fed first or there might be a dogfight around the campfire tonight.”

“You are kidding me, right?” asked Lynn.

Jane and Emily laughed.

“No, he ain’t kidding you. I have sat around the campfire before with Francis and his pack. Those three mutts will kill for a bacon dog. When you feed them just make sure you watch out for your fingers, especially the little one. And don’t forget the mustard and ketchup,” said Emily.

“You can do the honors Lynn. You will make three friends for life!” added Jane.

Francis had a grin on his face. He was really enjoying the attention the three female scouts were giving his animals.

“Is it okay Francis? Is this healthy for dogs?”

“Hell if I know. They eat anything I eat, so I guess it is. They certainly seem to like bacon dogs as you will soon find out.”

Lynn started to prepare six bacon hotdogs. While making the hotdogs the slobber from the dogs’ mouths intensified and the Jack Russell terrier started to stand on all four of his legs. He was, as usual, standing between the two big German Shepherds, who remained rigid in a sitting position.

“Handeln! Handeln!” commanded Francis.

“What does that mean?” asked Lynn.

“Behave,” answered Francis. He was not grinning but the still tipsy Emily and Jane laughed.

It took two minutes but Lynn finally had six bacon hotdogs resting on the metal pie pan sitting in her lap loaded with mustard and ketchup. She moved to be in front of the three animals and positioned her body to where she was on both knees.

She handed the first bacon dog to Schultz, as Francis instructed her to do. The small terrier gently took the treat, turned and retreated ten feet away behind the Shepherds to eat his special gift. She then handed a hotdog to Major and then one to Sarge. The two Shepherds wolfed the treats down in three gulps. Then they sat patiently waiting for their remaining hotdogs.

Jane and Emily were still giggling. Lynn wasn’t sure what to make of what was happening. After a minute Schultz returned and sat back down between the two large dogs.

“He’s a little guy so it takes him longer to eat,” said Lynn.

She petted all three dogs on their heads.

“Good boys,” she said.

Then she fed the final bacon dogs to the boys, making a special note to reverse the process with Major and Sarge. The terrier once again retreated to eat his food.

Lynn sat back down near the campfire.

Francis stood up and picked up his special AK47.

“Okay girls, it is time to go to work. Emily, you can have a couple of more shots of whiskey but no more than that tonight. Then you get back to sleep. Drink up the rest of the Pepsi girls. I will take the first watch tonight. Jane, would you please get on the notebook computer and let Zak know what is going on and what happened today? Don’t forget to tell him I killed four Homeland Security patrols on Javier’s trail and that we are headed to Javier’s ranch but tomorrow we plan on staying put to see how Em feels. Data will pick up on your ping to know where we are for now. Then get some rest ladies. It has been a hell of a busy day.”

“What are we going to do with Donnie and Chris?” asked Lynn.

“Zak will figure out something. For right now I reckon we will take them to Javier’s farm. We can’t bury them out here, the ground is too hard and I don’t feel like digging two graves anyways. Or we could let the critters take care of them.”

“No! Is that what will happen to the dead horse?” asked Lynn.

“That’s what the desert does lady. It reclaims what doesn’t move. That horse will be a skeleton in less than four weeks at the most.”

Francis motioned to his dogs to follow him and disappeared into the dark.

It took Lynn a few minutes to clean up while Emily settled in for the night. She quickly fell asleep. Lynn sat back down next to the campfire while Jane worked on her notebook computer, doing what Francis had told her to do.

“Do you still want to be a scout after today?” asked Jane while typing on her field computer.

“Yes,” answered Lynn.

“You had a rough start. I know of only one other scout who had a rough start like you did today.”

“Who was that?  Have I ever met that scout?”

“You sure have. That scout was the Pale Rider. That was like today. One of our best got killed right in front of her on her first scout mission.”

Lynn was quiet for a while, thinking about what had happened that day. Chris and Donnie had been involved with her during most of her training. They had been around the Secondary Base almost every day. They were nice young men and too young to die.

“How old is Francis?” she asked.

“I am not sure. He must be around twenty one or two at least. He may be a little older than that. I know he has been riding for Zak at least three years and I believe he was nineteen when he showed up at the Secondary Base. The Pale Rider and Eric escorted him and his family to the Secondary Base a couple of months after the first beat down of FEMA Camp 37 I think. He is about the same age as you. I am a little older. Why?”

Lynn sighed.

“He is an amazing young man. Good looking, smart and polite too. That is a hard combination to find now days.”

“You really like him don’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get too attached to anyone Lynn. People, especially scouts, don’t live long in this territory because of the war and the breakdown that has occurred in society. And don’t forget the government is out to kill him. The state of Nevada is one rough place to be right now.”

“I know. Still….”

“I know how you feel. Me and Emily have been riding together for a long time now. I thought I lost her today. I was freaking out for awhile.”

“You acted very calm and logical. I was freaking out when we were ambushed.”

“You did good, real good. You did what you had to do. You didn’t get yourself killed and you didn’t get me killed.”

“If it wasn’t for Francis showing up out of the blue…I just don’t know.”

“Yes, Francis was a Godsend. I think he likes you. That is why he followed us from the base.”

“I thought he left four or five hours before we did.”

“He did. But there are only two ways to leave the Secondary Base. He must have waited to see which trail we took at that place where there are three forks in the mountain trail. We probably passed right by him without knowing he was there. He killed four ten man patrols that were tailing us. That is a pretty good’s day work…for just one scout.”

“Yes, it would be nice if he liked me. His long haired German Shepherd seems to like me.”

“So I noticed. That surprised me because of the three dogs he is the one that is the most anti social with people. The little one will pee on people and the black one will sometimes come to people and wag his tail. The big brown dog just usually stands and watches people making them nervous as hell. You start to wonder if he is thinking ‘how would that person taste’. I was sure glad to see those animals today. You better get some rest.”

“Yeah, I am pretty tired. When do I stand watch for the night?”

“Francis or I will let you know. Get some rest.”

“It should be an easier day tomorrow,” said Lynn.

Jane laughed.

“Did I say something funny?” asked Lynn.

“Yes you did. You are a young scout. You will learn. There are no easy days in this Civil War. Get some rest.”

Lynn settled into her sleeping bag for the night. Within five minutes she was asleep.

* * * * *

Chapter Five

Bounty Hunters and the Javier Trail

Lynn opened her brown eyes. The first thing she saw was Emily sitting on the ground propped up against a saddle with a notebook computer resting on her lap drinking a cup of fresh coffee. Lynn slowly sat up on the ground where she went to sleep last night. Her legs were still a little sore from yesterday’s hectic events.

“Hey, sleepy head, did you get a good night’s rest?” asked Emily.

The Black Widow had her arm in sling.

Lynn looked around for a brief moment. She saw Jane still sleeping under three large wool blankets. The air was crisp but not freezing cold.

“Yes I did. I must have slept like a rock. How are you feeling Em?”

“The shoulder is kind of sore but other that that I’m okay. Francis changed my bandages early this morning and said I was a fast healer.”

“Francis! Why didn’t he wake me up to pull my share of guard duty? Where is Francis? What time is it?”

“It’s a little after seven. I guess Francis is out by the entrance to the box canyon. I think he spent the entire night out there. He woke me up two hours ago, made some coffee and changed my dressings. Then he took off and told me to relax but if I wanted to do something get on the notebook computer and get with Data at the Secondary Base, do the usual things a scout does first thing in the morning. He set a cup for you and Janie there on that boulder.”

She motioned to the two cups with her good arm.

Lynn got up and grabbed an aluminum cup and poured herself a hot cup of coffee. She took a sip.

“Good lord! The man even makes a good cup of coffee. Where are the dogs?”

“Where do you think? They are with Francis, I’m sure.”

“He and Jane must be tired pulling guard duty all night.”

“Nah. She woke up about two hours ago to go take a pee and then crawled back in the sack. She said she went to sleep about a half hour after you did last night.”

“Then Francis must be really tired!”

“Nah, he got a good night’s rest too. He is probably still asleep out by the entrance to the box canyon. He has his sleeping bag.”

Lynn grabbed another metal cup and poured another cup of coffee.

“I will take him some coffee. I will be back soon, Em.”

“Take your time. We are in no hurry today.”

Lynn walked out to the entrance of the box canyon and twenty feet off the trail behind some small boulders she saw a clump of cloth. It was a sleeping bag with a black hat nestled at one end. Lying next to the clump of cloth was the black Shepherd. Lying on the foot of the sleeping bag was the Jack Russell terrier, lying on his side sound asleep. It looked like the small dog was dead. Sitting at the edge of the trail was the brown Shepherd. The big dog looked at Lynn briefly, swept the ground with his bushy tail in a half attempt to wag and returned his stare to look up and down the trail.

“Hi guys!” said Lynn cheerily.

Schultz quickly rose to all four feet. Sarge raised his big black head briefly than laid it back down on his front paws. Francis didn’t stir.

“Francis?” she asked.

Finally she heard him reply softly.

“Just give me ten more minutes.”

“Francis, I brought you some good coffee. In ten minutes it will be cold.”

The young man removed the hat from his head. He rubbed his face with his right hand to get the sleep out of his eyes and then sat up.

“Thanks,” he said.

The terrier bolted up the trail and Lynn watched as the small critter started to pee on every boulder he could find. He didn’t take one long pee on any one boulder. He was skirting around nailing as many boulders as he could as if he only had a certain amount of time to complete his task.

“Something is wrong with that little dog.”

Francis laughed and took a sip of coffee.

“That sure tastes good. It’s kind of cool this morning. Winter will be here soon. Nothing is wrong with Schultz. The alpha male is doing his job, marking his territory.”

Lynn laughed.

“Why didn’t you wake me to relieve you for guard duty?”

Francis yawned.

“You don’t have to worry about that when you travel with dogs. One of three was watching the trail all night long and one is still watching the trail this morning. They are working dogs and they know what to do. Best team Zak has enlisted with Free America.”

“Wow! I never thought about that. I bet you sleep well every night.”

“Yes I do. Plus Midnight is a pretty good guard too if we are out in the woods. I prefer to camp in the mountains in areas like this than in the woods. Did you sleep well?”

“I sure did. I am ready to go whenever you say go. Emily looks good this morning.”

“She sure does but I think we will wait until tomorrow morning to move on. She is still sore in her upper shoulders, both of them, but I think she can ride. Plus we will know more in an hour or two on what to do next. I am trying to arrange an escort for you three to get back to the base safely.”

That news bothered Lynn but she said nothing at that time. She felt a deep desire to travel the trails with this young man and animals.

“So what is our next move?” she asked settling to the ground on the end of his sleeping bag.

“Well, the first thing I have to do this morning is mark my territory like Schultz, then I reckon…”

“That’s real funny. No. I mean generally. I mean, like getting our butts out of here. This trail seems awful popular considering its out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, it does. Emily is on the computer with Zak, Data and the geeks trying to get some information.”

Francis jumped up, stretched his six foot four inch frame and expertly rolled up his sleeping bag.

“Would you take my sleeping bag back to the campsite for me while I go act like the terrier?”

“No problem Francis,”

She grabbed his sleeping bag and carried it back to the campsite where Jane was still asleep and Emily was on the notebook computer.

“Did you wake up Francis?”

“Yep. He said he had to go pee and after that he was coming here I think to check on any news from the base.”

“Good. I have some information for him that he needs to be aware of. You better wake up sleeping beauty over there, please.”

Lynn walked over to where Jane was sleeping and woke her up. Francis strolled into the nook where they had spent the night.  Emily wasted no time in telling him what she had found out on the computer.

“I just spoke with Zak. We have to get moving sometime today. Some of Scott’s scouts are at Javier’s ranch down the trail and Scott needs some horses. Zak said Javier is haggling over price and giving Scott’s scouts a hard time. I told him we had fifty extra horses with saddles, guns, the whole nine yards and he about shit his pants. I also told him you were with us and he just gave me the Zak stare over the computer interface but said nothing. I also told him that we had Donnie and Chris’s bodies which led to me telling him what happened yesterday. He was pretty calm once I finished my report which surprised me.  In the past Zak would want to know every detail down to things like was it cold or real cold, cold or would you say cool, shit like that.  He said very little but he stressed one thing.  He said you knew how to deal with Javier and for us to get moving in that direction. Scott has had a hundred scouts in the mountain territory around Javier’s ranch the past few months and they have been killing a lot of Hussein patrols and bounty hunters in this area of Nevada. It wasn’t like that a year ago.”

“What did you really tell him Em?” asked Francis.

“I told you were having fun too, just like Scott and his men.”

“Swell. I am trying to get to the twin caves some time this week but I guess we can take care of Scott and Zak if you can ride. There is no hurry. We don’t have to jump because Zak says to jump.”

“I can ride as long as we keep your pace. I don’t think I can haul ass on a horse right now.”

“Then you will do fine. I never haul ass in the mountains. I didn’t want to leave all those saddles and weapons here anyway.”

“You mean we have to saddle up all those damn horses?” asked Jane.

“I will help you. Lynn you help Emily get ready to ride. It should take us a couple of hours. I am with Lynn on what she has observed and she is a rookie scout. This trail is too damn busy it seems for being out in the middle of nowhere.”

All four scouts got busy. After one hour they had about two thirds of the government horses saddled when a beeper started to go off somewhere on Francis’s body. He reached into his left coat pocket and pulled out what looked like a cell phone.

“Damn!” he exclaimed softly.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lynn with alarm.

“We have company, six miles up the trail towards the base. It must be some more bounty hunters. They are probably associates of the two we killed last night. They just set off one of my hidden trip alarms.”

“What are we going to do?” asked Jane.

“We are going to kill them. Jane, you and Lynn stay here with Em out of sight in the entrance to the box canyon. I will leave the dogs here with you. I should be gone an hour or two. It depends on how many there are.”

As he mounted Midnight, Lynn mounted Butch.

“What do you think you are doing?” he asked.

“I am going with you to kill me some bounty hunters. They are out to kill scouts and I’m a scout,” answered the brunette.

“You need to stay here with Jane and help protect Emily.”

“We will be okay Francis. I can still shoot my pistol. I’m not totally helpless…yet,” said Emily.

There was silence. Finally Lynn spoke.

“You ain’t my daddy Francis! You are way to bossy sometimes. We need to get a move on and quit wasting time.”

Then she spurred Butch heading for the entrance to the box canyon.

Francis followed shaking his head and waving goodbye to Calamity Jane and Emily.

“Sarge, Major, Schultz!  Schutz! And I mean guard!” he exclaimed pointing at Jane and Emily.

Then the two scouts spurred their mounts galloping down the trail. Looking over her shoulder Lynn saw that this time the dogs stayed. They could tell that Francis meant business.

Before reaching the place where the ambush had occurred Francis leaned off his saddle to speak with Lynn.

“Follow me!”

He reined Midnight to his left and barreled up a steep mountain trail. It took them less than five minutes to reach a high point on the mountain side that offered a panoramic view of the trail and the long narrow valley. On the ground below the two Free America scouts on a separate trail were two lifeless bodies.

Francis dismounted and Lynn followed his lead. After leading their horses while on foot down a narrow mountain path for two to three minutes they were soon standing over the two dead men.

“I take it those are the two bounty hunters you sniped last night?”

“That’s them. Their horses must have returned to the bounty hunters camp last night without their riders. At least the new arrivals don’t know where they were when I killed them which might be good for us. There on the ground beside the bodies is their piece of shit rifles. No wonder they didn’t try to shoot us. Those are shotguns, not long rifles. They are two dead dumb ass traitors. Both of them look American.”

Suddenly Francis’s beeper went off again.

“What does that mean?”

“That means whoever is traveling down the Javier trail is now five miles away. They are moving pretty fast. It tells me they have their horses doing a fast trot but not at a gallop. It also tells me they are experienced bounty hunters. That is the last beep. I didn’t place anymore laser trip lines on the trail yesterday.”

“Are we going to pick them off from here?”

“No.”

Francis pulled out a small black box with a red button on its side.

“I am going to poison them.”

“But won’t that kill their horses?”

“Hell yeah, it will kill their horses and everything else around for the next five minutes. When I set it off we need to haul ass away from here. There is no wind so the gas will move straight up this mountain and spread along with the terrain.”

“Doesn’t Scott need horses? Why don’t we shoot the bounty hunters or whoever they are if they are bad guys and get their horses, saddles and guns?”

“I bet there are more than two this time. Picking off six experienced bounty hunters will be difficult. I can get the first two but by that time the rest will be scrambling to get behind cover.”

“We have fifteen or more minutes. You stay here and let me move down this mountain on foot. I will get behind them while you pin them down with your AK47.”

“We don’t need to have a discussion on this! I say poison them all!”

“No. I don’t want to kill the horses unless we have too!  Let me get my rifle and maybe you will change your mind!” yelled Lynn, her temper flaring.

Lynn went to Butch and unsnapped a holster flap. She pulled out a rifle that looked like it was from a science fiction movie.

“Did you ever see one of these big boys?”

Francis eyeballed the fancy rifle.

“What the hell is that and where did you get it?”

“Papa Zak gave it to me because of my scores. It is an XM8 with a modified magazine that holds two hundred rounds. It is also equipped with a super silencer and an optical scope. I call it the Big X.  I will get behind whoever is coming down the trail. You just try to get the two lead riders if they are bad guys. If they are not bad guys I will step out behind them and tell them to go back the way the came.”

Then the brunette took off down the steep mountainside on foot not wanting to discuss anything further. Francis watched her leave and didn’t say anything else. She moved easily down the dangerous slope and disappeared into the thick Juniper trees.

He moved to the same place where the bounty hunters were sitting when he picked them off with his sniper rifle.

“If she dies, she dies,” muttered Francis to no one.

He knelt behind two boulders that were side by side. He had a good view of the trail in both directions. He started to scope the woods looking for Lynn but saw nothing.

“At least she is good at hiding. I guess we will see how good she is at killing.”

Twenty minutes passed and six rough looking men on horses trotted into view around a bend on the trail coming from the east. The experienced scout could tell by the rifles they had in their arms, the scopes on their rifles and the way they carried them they were bounty hunters looking for Free America scouts to kill. They were after the one million government credits offered on the body of any scout, dead or alive. In this time in history, one dead scout would set up a person for life financially.  Francis waited until they were almost below him on the trail two hundred yards away and then fired his assault rifle. This would be an easy kill.

He picked off the two lead riders. The remaining four quickly dismounted their horses and ducked for cover behind the boulders lining the trail. They had automatic long rifles and bullets started to whiz over Francis head to strike nearby boulders. He heard no gun shots other than those coming from the bounty hunters.

“Okay woman. You can start any time.”

Suddenly the gunfire from below intensified dramatically. He peeked between the two boulders to view the trail down below. Now there were ten to twelve more horses, maybe more.

“Holy shit! They were traveling in two groups!” he muttered.

Then he heard the strangest sound coming from below that he had ever heard in the mountains. It was brief and sounded like air escaping from a tube or hose. Then there was silence.

He peeked out once again from behind the left boulder. Then he cautiously moved his head to the right a little more. He could see a lot of horses standing around and the two bounty hunters he shot lying in the middle of the trail but not much else. Then he heard a loud whistle.

Butch pulled his reins from the light tree branch he was tied to and started to trot down the steep trail that he had climbed up before. Francis mounted Midnight and slowly moved down the trail keeping his AK47 ready to fire.

Hitting the main trail he reined Midnight to the left and headed in the direction of where the action had occurred. Rounding the bend in the mountain trail he couldn’t believe what he saw. Against the base of the mountain just off the trail were a lot of bodies lying on the ground. The pretty brunette was sitting on a boulder smoking a thin cigar much like the cigars he smoked calmly waiting for his arrival.

As he headed towards Lynn she stood and started to walk along the line of bodies, shooting them again where they laid on the ground with short, three shot bursts from her fancy rifle. She would shoot each body lying on the ground two or three times.

Francis finally was beside her and dismounted.

“Just making sure they are dead. Zak taught me to do that in any fight.”

She blew a puff of smoke in the air.

“Damn, that cigar looks like the cigars that I smoke!” exclaimed Francis.

“It is one of yours. I lifted some cigars off of you last night while you were sleeping on guard duty. They are tasty being the tips soaked in rum I guess.”

“Did my dogs let you do that? Did Sarge let you sneak up to where I was sleeping and steal those cigars out of my vest pocket?”

“They sure did! How about that? There are eighteen more horses, saddles and guns for Scott. Are your warning lasers up the trail still working?”

“They are.”

“Then we have time to get their weapons. There is no rush. You know, I could get to like these things. Can you spare a few more today?”

“You did damn good girl. Here, have a five pack,” said Francis.

He reached in an inner pocket of his leather coat and handed her a slim box of the cigars.

For the next ten minutes they gathered up the bounty hunters guns lying near their bodies. The two Free America scouts hung the dead men’s gun belts and pistols on the saddle horns of the waiting horses and headed back to the box canyon. The dogs, along with Jane and Emily, were waiting. The two female scouts who remained behind grinned when they saw all the horses. As Lynn, Francis and the dogs herded the horses into the canyon both the female scouts saw Lynn’s assault rifle for the first time.

“Holy shit! Where did you get that and what is it?” asked Jane.

“It’s called the Big X. It is one bad ass gun with one bad ass silencer. It doesn’t make much noise when it is cranked up.  I will have to get me one of those!” exclaimed Francis.

“You guys killed eighteen men? We only heard two muffled shots!” said Emily.

“Those were my two shots. The Night Ranger did the rest and it was over in ten seconds. Whatever that rifle she carries is, it is one bad weapon.”

“How fast does that gun fire?” asked Jane.

“Seven hundred and fifty rounds a minute. It is a great sniper rifle too. I guess we better get back to saddling up these horses. The old man was taking care of me I reckon,” said Lynn as she dismounted.

Lynn was all business. She turned and reached into her coat pocket.

“Here guys, Good boys!”

The three dogs quickly ran to where she was standing and obediently say down in front of her. She followed protocol and gave Schultz the first biscuit. But this time she cheated. She slipped Major and Sarge two biscuits without anyone knowing.

The time was eleven in the morning when the four scouts and the dog pack herded the pack of horses out of the box canyon and headed up the trail in a northwest direction. Francis and Betty were at the rear moving at the mule’s usual pace. The Night Ranger had demanded that she ride at the point.  Emily was riding along with Francis while Jane and the dog pack were working the horses. It was a slow easy pace.

Every now and then Francis would stop on Midnight and move off the trail to an outcropping of boulders to smoke a thin cigar and scope out the distant mountains to his rear while the herd continued to progress to the Javier ranch. After waiting ten minutes and feeling satisfied that no one was following them he would spur his horse and catch up with Emily and Betty.

After seven hours of riding without taking a break Jane trotted to the rear of the herd and pulled up beside Francis.

“How much farther is the Javier ranch Francis?” she asked.

The young man looked around at the mountains.

“If I recall correctly it is still another five or six hours at this pace. We have about an hour and half left of daylight. I reckon we better look for a place to hole up for the night. Everyone is tired including the dogs. It’s been a long and stressful ride today. Why don’t you ride up to Lynn and you two go on ahead with Major and look for a good place to stop? In another mile or two there is a stream on the right that runs along this trail for two to three miles. That stream runs right through the Javier ranch eventually. In fact, that steams runs through the ranch and behind the main farm house. I think we are already on ranch property.”

“Okay, do you know of any more box canyons ahead?”

“No, not like the one we stayed in last night. But there are a lot of large boulders along the trail on the side of the stream. And there is plenty of room and trees to tie off the horses. We will just leave the saddles on the government horses for the night. They will be okay for one night.”

“Thank God! That is a lot of work for three people.”

Jane rode off to join Lynn.

“Wow! That must be one big ranch! I am sorry I am not much help on this trip,” said Emily.

“It’s the biggest ranch in Eureka County I think and you have been a big help playing secretary on this run. Have you ever met Javier?”

“No but I have heard rumors about him.”

“What have you heard?”

“I have heard that he might be dirty.”

“He is. But dirty can be good sometimes if you know how to handle it.”

“You have met him?”

“Let’s just say he knows me. I am sure when you meet him tomorrow he will tell you all about our, let’s say, business meetings. He isn’t gonna’ be happy with us showing up with all these horses for Scott tomorrow.”

“Why is that?”

Francis grinned.

“Because they are not his horses and he is gonna’ have to deal with me. I hope Scott is there tomorrow just to learn how to handle that tightwad.”

Thirty minutes passed when Lynn rode to the rear of the herd.

“Howdy stranger!” said Emily.

Lynn had been riding the point all day long.

“How are you holding up Em?”

“I’m doing okay. Francis his been giving me one of those little pills every four hours. Did you find a place?”

“I think so. It is where the creek starts to bend away from the trail. It’s about an acre in size and there are big boulders that run parallel to and from the trail to the bank of the stream. It’s grassy, the horses can drink and we can hole up for the night in the boulders. It seems cooler tonight than last night and there are plenty of dead trees lying on the ground to build a campfire.”

“It sounds good to me. Tell Jane to turn the horses into the area.”

Lynn smiled at Francis.

“I already have. Janie and the dogs are moving them in. I think we won’t have to work so hard tonight.”

“That sounds good to me,” said Francis.

One hour later everyone was sitting around a campfire in the middle of some large boulders that were the size of small houses. Francis had once again set up some invisible laser alarms one mile from the camp in each direction of the trail. The dogs and horses had been fed. Now the scouts were enjoying some canned ham and scrambled eggs while the dog pack was out on the trail doing their thing.  Francis had made some coffee for the night and Lynn thought that the experienced scouts seemed more relaxed tonight. It was getting cold, colder than last night. The half moon was visible because the night was clear. It looked like you could reach up and touch the stars.

“Do you think we will have any problems with the Hussein Guard or bounty hunters tonight or tomorrow like last night Francis?” asked Lynn.

“I checked my notebook computer thirty minutes ago. There are quite a few crews of scouts up in the mountains in this area. We won’t have to worry about the Hussein Guard coming from the north of the Javier ranch because Scott’s boys have that area saturated and looking for something to kill. That includes bounty hunters. Those bounty hunters we ran into were out of the small city of Battle Mountain which has obviously become a Homeland Security stronghold. We moved quite a distance from that area today. If there are some bounty hunters this deep in the mountains they are either crazy or tough as nails. Javier doesn’t like bounty hunters that much and has a bad reputation when it comes to dealing with them.”

“So what is this Javier character Francis? You said you have met him before,” said Emily.

“You have to keep one eye on him. He is always trying to make money off of everything he does and the only reason he cooperates with Free America is because he was saved one time and threatened by me at the same time.”

“So can he be trusted?” asked Lynn.

“Javier can only be counted on when it comes to getting something like supplies, gold and silver, things like that and lining his pocket. He works with FEMA and Homeland Security but he aligns himself with whoever has the most money. Unfortunately, Free America doesn’t have as much money as the federal government so sometimes you have to go to plan B, like threatening to kill him or his family.”

“What?” exclaimed Jane.

“Why isn’t he dead yet?” asked Lynn.

“Now settle down ladies! Let me explain. Three years ago when I started to ride alone I came across his ranch one night. This was before I had the pack. It was dark and I was scoping out his place, checking it out because I saw a pack of government horses tethered to the front porch of his big farmhouse. Sneaking around I discovered that there was a renegade pack of three Hussein Guard riders and three bounty hunters who had banded together to do whatever they wanted. There is no law out here other than the gun. I found several bodies lying on the ground in the front yard. I found out later they were Javier’s hands. Looking through a side window I could see a Hispanic man tied to a wood chair and several more men sitting in chairs with their hands tied behind them. These six creeps were drunk and taking turns having a go at Javier’s two teenage daughters. They were screaming their heads off and the creeps were laughing.”

“Having a go? What does that mean?” asked Lynn.

“Good grief Lynn! The two girls were getting gang raped! You are so naïve sometimes!” exclaimed Jane.

“Oh. I see,” answered Lynn softly.

“And?” asked Emily.

“I walked in through the front door and killed all six of them with my Colts. It was a pretty tense moment for me. I had only been a scout for less than a year and it was the first time I traveled so far away from the Secondary Base alone. I was on my way to the twin caves to meet up with the Pale Rider to learn how to make the really good poison bombs. Anyway, Javier was grateful and said he owed me. Since then I have been making him pay me back on occasion but he has been striking deals with Homeland Security to keep his land and family. He is a pilot and has a small airplane that he uses sometimes for Homeland Security to transport some of the big wigs from place to place out here in the boonies. He’s doing what he has to do to survive, I reckon.”

“It’s amazing he hasn’t been shot out of the air by one of our Stingers.”

“He has done things for Free America sometimes. He always wants something though. Two years ago he got antsy with me because I needed something. It was the first time I asked him for something.  I told him then that if he ever acted that way again I would kill everybody in the place while they slept. Since then he has been friendly but I don’t trust him.”

“What did you ask him to do that made him goofy?” asked Lynn.

“The same thing I am going to ask him to do tomorrow. I am going to ask him to use his little plane to fly Donnie and Chris to a nearby highway by the Secondary Base for Zak to retrieve them and give them a proper Christian burial in the Valley of Freedom. You will see, especially with gas being a hundred and twenty bucks a gallon that he will complain and cry like a baby. He will want something in return, like the government horses we have.”

“What if he refuses?” asked Jane.

“Then I will kill him and any of his men in the room on the spot. He thinks all I am is a hunter that is fast with a gun.”

“What if that happens? What will we do with Donnie and Chris?”

“I reckon we will go to plan B and find out if any of Scott’s boys can fly a plane. Besides, I am getting tired of Javier and what he is doing on the side. It is time to step up, be a patriot and help Free America if you want to live in Nevada.”

The group bedded down for the night, but tonight Jane, Lynn and Francis did pull guard duty along with the dog pack. It was a peaceful night but for some reason, the Night Ranger had an uneasy feeling that she couldn’t shake.

* * * * *

The sun was still invisible on the eastern horizon but you could see its rays starting to streak through the Nevada sky over the tops of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Lynn walked to where she was standing next to a figure tucked into a warm sleeping bag. All she could see from the light of the campfire was a bag, a black hat and a big black dog snug against the sleeping bag. She bent down and shook the man shoulders.

“Francis, wake up! We have some serious problems! Wake up!”

“Go away! Just give me ten more minutes…”

She placed her hands on her hips and then whistled. A big brown German Shepherd dog ambled into the campsite nestled in among the large boulders. Lynn walked over to the small fire, threw a small thick log in its middle then went to Betty’s supplies, which were on the ground nearby and retrieved a canteen. She grabbed a coffee pot that was sitting on a rock by the fire and filled it with water then placed it on a small grill spanning the fire.

“Wake him up Major! Enwecke!” she said.

The big brown Shepherd nosed the black cowboy hat off Francis’s

head and began to lick his face. Watching the ongoing activity with a grin on her face Lynn suddenly heard growling, a lot of growling.

“Good grief Francis! Is that little flea bag inside your sleeping bag?”

She watched as a lump at the end of the sleeping bag moved underneath the top cover and finally arrived at the opening to where Francis’ head was visible. Schultz popped his small head out of the end of the sleeping bag for a brief moment, growled at Major, then ducked back in the sleeping bag.

Lynn went to the opposite side of the fire where Emily and Jane were asleep in their sleeping bags.

“It’s time to get up ladies. I just got off the notebook computer with Zak. We have problems,” she said calmly while nudging each prone lump in a sleeping bag on the ground. Then she went back to Francis who hadn’t moved. Major was still patiently sitting above his head watching Lynn’s every move.

“This is how you wake him when you have to Major. Sarge, get up!”

The black Shepherd rose to his four feet and ambled six feet away watching and learning.  Emily and Jane were watching as well. Lynn bent over and grabbed the edge of Francis’s sleeping bag with both hands.

“Okay, do you see the edge of the sleeping bag Major? You have big teeth, bigger than I do. You grab the sleeping bag right here and then you…pull! Hard!”

Immediately man and dog tumbled completely over inside the sleeping bag.

Lynn could hear a lot of growling and she finally heard a voice.

“Hey!”

Schultz bolted out of the sleeping bag and he was not happy. He was growling while trotting towards Lynn. Suddenly, the brown German Shepherd growled loud and moved to stand in front of Lynn, something Lynn had never seen him do. The dog also displayed his big white teeth to the little dog.

Schultz stopped in his tracks and turned. Then he retreated to the trail to take his morning pee.

“Major, ungezwungen!” said Francis while still contained in his sleeping bag.

The brown German Shepherd moved to where he was next to Francis and then sat down. He knew who his master was.

“This is a hell of way to start the day.”

Francis slowly worked his way out of his temporary bed, stood up and stretched.

“I just got off the computer with Zak and Scott. We have problems and we may be riding into danger. We need to get up and get moving as quickly as possible.”

“Why? Can you give me one good reason to move quickly?”

“Okay. How about Scott said twenty scouts were supposed to have arrived at this Javier guy’s ranch yesterday morning and he hasn’t heard a word from any of them since then. He’s getting pings from the horse’s identity chips but he has heard nothing from the scouts. They were the advance party to his main group and were supposed to get back with him on how many horses Javier had for sale the day they arrived. To make things worse Zak said more Hussein Guard troops are moving up the trail we used and may be here by tomorrow morning.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I killed forty yesterday not counting the government bounty hunters you killed.”

“Zak said our scouts saw a column of one thousand Hussein Guard troops on the Javier trail headed our way. Those troops were dispatched from Las Vegas and have been traveling for days.”

“A thousand! Why would the government be doing that…unless they were going to establish a base in this part of the mountains? It all makes sense now. That’s why there is a big furor over horses. Horses are the way to move around in these mountains. That slimy fucker Javier has sold out.”

“We need to move these animals off the trail for now. Do you know anywhere where we can hide the horses for the day?” asked Lynn.

“As a matter of fact I do. Everyone get ready to ride in a half hour,” said Francis jumping to his feet.

A half hour later Francis was sitting on Midnight standing on the Javier trail and holding Betty’s reins.

“Em, take Betty’s reins and I want you to move back into the boulders for ten minutes or maybe a little longer while we move the herd”

“Is there a spot up ahead? We know there was nowhere for the herd to graze or stay without being seen from the trail for ten miles behind us” said Lynn.

“Schultz!” exclaimed Francis clapping his hands.

The small dog jumped up on Midnight’s back and slipped into his custom saddle bag seat.

“What are we doing Francis?” asked Jane.

He pointed to the west.

“We are going that way with the herd.”

“We are going to cross that small river? It is flowing fairly fast!” exclaimed Lynn.

“We aren’t going swimming woman. Beyond that line of trees is a nice valley between those mountain peaks. The river isn’t deep. Well it might be six or seven feet deep in the middle but Midnight can swim. So can your horse.”

“What about the Shepherds?” asked Jane.

Francis laughed.

“They both can swim like a fish and love the water. It is time they both had a bath anyways. Schultz is the one who can’t swim.”

The women laughed loudly. Schultz looked at the wide stream and ducked down into his saddle bag out of sight.

“Are you telling me the alpha male would drown in a bath tub?” asked Lynn.

“If it was deep enough he would.  Schultz can dog paddle with his front legs like he should but those rear legs get tucked up to his belly and that is where they stay. He looks like a drowning man signaling for help with his front paws. I have tried to teach him several times how to swim because of all the mountain streams we run across but so far no success. I am a patient man. One of these days he will learn how to swim…maybe.”

“So where do we cross? How are we going to get the horses moving to cross?” asked Jane.

“Let’s stay to the right where the stream bends away from the trail. The water looks slow there. The Shepherds will take care of the horses Janie. That is what they like to do. That is why they are called German Shepherds.  Follow me.”

Francis moved Midnight to a gentle slope on the bank of the stream and waded in while Lynn and Jane followed. Here the water came up to the underbelly of their horses. Crossing the small stream took the scouts and their horses twenty seconds. Once on the other side Francis turned and faced the opposite bank.

“Herde!” yelled Francis.

The black and brown Shepherds were sitting on the bank where Francis told them to sit. The two big dogs instantly bolted into action and moved behind the herd. They both started to bark and nip at the horses’ rear legs that were at the back of the herd.  The result was the entire herd began to wade into the river.

Once the last horse was in the water both dogs jumped into the water. Lynn dismounted Butch and walked down to the edge of the stream to stand by the river bank where the Shepherds would emerge.

“Lynn, I would…” said Francis, but he was cut short.

“I got it Francis. I just want to make sure they make it.”

Francis let a strange grin creep across his face and then slowly turned Midnight, laughing.

The Night Ranger wondered what she had said that was so funny.

The herd of horses rushed out of the fast moving water and moved inland twenty yards. The two Shepherds easily swam across the mountain stream moving through the water like fresh water otters.

As both animals crawled out of the stream Lynn approached them with two dog biscuits in hand.

“Good boys!” she gushed.

As she got near, Major decided to shake his fur to dry as all dogs do. From afar while sitting high on their horses twenty yards away all Francis and Jane could see for a long two seconds was a solid ball of water on land reflecting the early morning rays of the rising sun and engulfing Lynn. After the temporary ball of water vanished Lynn was standing beside the brown German Shepherd with a stunned look on her face. She was soaking wet from head to toe. The two dogs sat down in front of her waiting for their reward.

“Don’t forget to give them their reward Lynn,” said Francis as he turned his horse

Francis and Jane laughed while spurring their horses to head to the north.

Lynn gave a dog biscuit to each of the animals. They both gulped down their reward and bolted across the ground to keep the horses moving in the direction that Francis was moving. Lynn slowly mounted Butch and moved her horse to stand beside Jane.

Jane already had a towel in her hand.

“Good grief! You are soaking wet! It is kind of cold to be taking a shower this morning isn’t it?”

Lynn dried off her face then smiled.

“I love those two dogs,” she replied as she spurred Butch taking off after Francis.

Chapter Six

Double Cross at the Javier Ranch

Five hours had passed since the four scouts and the dog pack had relocated the herd across the mountain stream. It took Francis, Lynn and Jane thirty minutes to fashion a temporary corral with the lariats they had borrowed from the government horses. The scouts felt confident the horses would still be contained in the temporary corral where they left them and were planning on returning the next day, if they returned. If not, the horses, when hungry, would easily break their bonds and at least be able to survive in the Nevada wilderness…for a few days.

Francis took the lead and proceeded up a lightly traveled high mountain trail to the Javier ranch avoiding the main trail that wound through the bottom of the valleys between the high mountains. This was a dangerous ride. The switchback trail meandered on the tops, ledges and ridges of the mountain range. In this part of the state the smaller mountains were heavily forested which gave the scouts an advantage. At least the day grew warmer and the weather was good, perfect riding weather for tramping on a horse in the high desert mountains.

The four scouts stopped at a small ridge at the top of a small mountain. They were, for the moment, giving the animals a rest.

Francis dismounted Midnight, retrieved a medium sized aluminum bucket fastened on Betty’s load, grabbed a two liter bottle of water out of one of Betty’s packs and poured it into the container. He went around to every horse and let them drink briefly. Then he went back to Betty and produced a smaller bottle of water, pouring it into the bucket. Then he let his dogs drink.

“All the animals were thirsty. Although it’s not hot high in these mountains the air will dry you out quick. Above that ridge on the other side of this mountain is Javier’s ranch. Let’s tie up the horses here and walk up the ridge. It’s not a demanding hike and we can take a peek with our binoculars of what awaits us. Schultz, Major, Sarge! Stay here and guard the horses!”

“You spoke to them in English!” exclaimed Lynn.

“They understand both languages. When I command them in English however, they know I mean business. They better not follow us or I will punish them…somehow. We don’t need any of Javier’s’ lookouts seeing a dog trotting along at the top of the ridge and giving our element of surprise away for a damn dog biscuit.”

Grabbing their binoculars the four scouts walked up the steep ridge. The last ten feet they crawled on their hands and knees. Emily, because of her injured shoulder, found the going difficult half way up the incline so she sat down to wait.

Once at the top and peeking over the ridge what they saw with their glasses surprised all three. On the ground in the front area of the big farmhouse were two to three hundred horses. Behind the farmhouse one hundred yards was a big corral with a hundred or more horses. Lynn raised her binoculars to her eyes.

“Those are government horses. I can see the Homeland Security logo on the horses that have saddles!” she exclaimed.

“What is going on Francis?” asked Jane.

“I think I see the answer. Look over by the side of the long bunkhouse for the farmhands to the right rear.”

Lynn swung her binoculars then gasped. Hanging by their necks from stout gallows were ten or twelve men. She could tell by the way they were dressed they were scouts. She started to shake, mostly out of anger.

“Those bastards! I am gonna’ kill them all!” she said through gritted teeth.

Francis lowered his binoculars and looked at the brunette.

“That is ten or twelve million government credits down there swinging in the Nevada wind. Settle down young lady. We ain’t doing nothing right now but getting back to the horses and hiding in those thick trees…for now. Let’s go.”

They quickly scurried down the ridge, helping Emily to her feet, and mounted their horses. It took the four scouts three minutes to move their mounts deep into a nearby forest. They dismounted and secured their rides. Francis could see anger in the faces of the female scouts. He could understand Lynn’s rookie reaction but was surprised by Emily and Janie. He was sure this wasn’t the first time they had seen multiple dead scouts in this war but it was clear this was the first time they had seen so many scouts strung up to die.

“Em, get your notebook computer out of your saddle bag and get a line to Zak and Scott. Plans have changed,” ordered Francis calmly.

“Boys, verbergen, schutz!”

“You told them to guard. What was the other word?” asked Lynn.

“Hide. They will see any shit head snooping around long before they see us. We have to lay low for now. There are too many of them to fight without a plan plus we don’t know where they are since they started removing the national identity chips from their bodies, weapons and horses.  Let me know when you have Zak and Scott on the screen Em. I want a video conference…now.”

Emily opened her notebook computer and began to go to work. Of all the present scouts, she was the one who knew best how to type and use a mouse. After five minutes she called to Francis.

“I have them both Francis, on split screen.”

Francis took the notebook, sat down on a boulder next to Emily and set the device on his legs.

“Francis! It is nice of you to let me know what the hell is going on!” said Zak.

Scott, the scout known as the Liberator, was genuinely happy to see Francis, although he didn’t know him that well.

“How is it going Reaper?” he asked with a smile.

“Not well Scott. I know that twelve of your scouts are dead. They all are hanging from the end of a rope by Javier’s bunkhouse. How many guys did you send?”

“What? I just spoke with that little asshole this morning. He said he was waiting for my arrival tomorrow morning! I sent a twenty man squadron!”

Zak had a look of surprise on his face, then anger.

“I always thought that weasel would turn one day. You are lucky to be speaking with me Francis! You have dealt with that scum more than anyone else from Free America!” exclaimed Zak.

“Luck has nothing to do with me speaking with you old man. You are probably right about me dealing with Javier more that anyone else from Free America but it looks like the dealing is over. Scott is the lucky one. He was riding into an ambush.”

“Where are you at right now?” asked Zak.

“Have Data ping us. We are on the eastern ridge of the nearest mountain overlooking Javier’s spread. There must be three hundred Homeland Security horses in the front of his big ass farmhouse and another one to two hundred horses in the corral one hundred yards behind the main house. I don’t know for sure if those horses are government horses or horses Javier has managed to steal or trap.”

“I need horses Francis. A lot of my men are riding double and slowing us down,” said Scott.

“Fuck that Scott! If it wasn’t for Francis by tomorrow night there would have been a hell of a lot more horses than men left of your scout force. You got enough poison with you Francis?” asked Zak.

“You know the answer to that question old man. I always have enough poison.”

“Then kill them all. We will find horses somewhere else.”

“I need horses now Zak! My men are already exhausted from the hike they just went through!” exclaimed Scott.

The two images onscreen argued with each other for a minute. Francis hit the mute button while they argued. He then pulled out one his trademark thin cigars and lit it. Lynn sat down next to him. He reached again into his vest pocket, handed her one of his cigars and lit it for her.

“What do you think Francis?” she asked looking into his eyes. The rookie female scout was worried.

“I’m thinking that maybe this was a stupid thing to do.”

“If you mean following after me and the girls I don’t think so. If you mean coming here to this place…well, maybe. Don’t pay any attention to those two. What I mean is what do you think we should do?”

He looked back into Lynn’s eyes. Then he took her left hand.

“Well, the first thing that pops into my mind is for us to not get killed over a bunch of stupid damn horses. I sure don’t want that. It is like Zak just stated. We can always find horses later.”

“And?” she pressed.

“The word retribution crosses my mind. Plus, there is nothing I would like to do more right now than to get Javier back to the Secondary Base to allow Doc to conduct his crazy study to see if Javier has no soul. And…and we have a great opportunity to waste two or three hundred members of Homeland Security shit heads which looks to be mostly foreigners.”

“Then why don’t we do that?”

“Are you crazy Lynn? There must be three hundred members of the Hussein Guard down there, plus twenty of Javier’s ranch hands to boot. No telling how many bounty hunters might be there too. I think we should wait until Scott gets here with more people and guns!” said Calamity Jane.

“That maybe true but we have one thing Scott doesn’t have!”

“What’s that?” retorted Janie.

“We have the element of surprise. The bad guys have no clue we are here.”

Francis thought for a moment while Scott and Zak continued to argue on screen. Finally he sighed looking back at the screen.

“That’s true. I guess it boils down to four scouts and three mutts getting killed instead of a hundred or so scouts. This would be easy if it wasn’t for the horse factor. I could kill them all right now easily. The wind is perfect.”

“Javier and his buddies won’t be moving into any ambush positions until tomorrow morning…early. We would have to do something tonight,” replied Lynn.

“I guess there is no time like the present.”

Francis hit the mute button on the notebook.

“Hey, shut up you two!” he hissed.

Zak and Scott became quiet.

“This is what we do. Scott you make plans to take out a government stronghold in the mountains that has four hundred Hussein Guards if you plan on showing up tomorrow. A lot of scouts will get killed. You can also count on these mountains to be crawling with bounty hunters wanting to collect that one million credit reward on any scout dead or alive. You can bet that Javier has spread the word about you and your three or four hundred men arriving here tomorrow. That is a lot of government credits to split up. Hell, I imagine you have a hefty reward on your head alone. There is not much you can do Zak other than have Data get more useful information about Javier if he can. You have until ten o’clock tonight to get me anything that may help me and the ladies.”

“What are you going to do Francis?” asked Zak.

“I will figure out something. If you don’t hear from me by sunrise tomorrow than you know we didn’t succeed and at least Scott will have a plan in place if he intends on getting these horses. If we get back to you before the sun comes up in the morning all Scott and his men will have to do is ease into this valley and get their horses. Scott, there are sixty plus horses corralled by ropes up the Javier trail where the stream takes a bend away from the trail. They are in the woods across the stream where it leaves the trail. The horses have saddles and weapons. I just want you to know that in case you don’t hear from me again.”

“Just use your pipe bombs Francis!” yelled Zak.

“No Zak! Lynn and Janie both don’t like that idea, killing all of those good horses. I don’t like it either. Plus, I want to bring Javier back to Doc for a little project we are doing.”

“Forget that crazy experiment young man! Do it the easy way!” roared Zak.

“No,” answered Francis.

“I sure wish the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo were nearby!” exclaimed the old man.

“Little Jimbo? Do you think Little Jimbo would let the Pale Rider kill all those horses with her poison? Little Jimbo is crazy about horses! The Pale Rider wouldn’t get laid for weeks if she did that!” exclaimed Francis.

“Yeah, but the Pale Rider would just stroll down there and kill them all with her pistols!” yelled Zak.

Then the old man laughed, which caused Scott to laugh. Scott had seen the Pale Rider in action before. The moment relieved the tension in the air, for a brief moment.

Then Zak’s transmission went dead. Scott’s face filled the screen.

“Hey, why don’t you wait until we get there to give you some help? We could meet up down the trail, delay our arrival and ambush them after laying low for a few days.”

“No, that won’t work. I know you have some real good scouts but I am sure that Homeland Security and Javier know roughly where you are this very moment. Any delay in your arrival by tomorrow afternoon will arouse suspicion.  Plus me, Lynn, Jane and Emily have surprise on our side right now. If anything is done with a minimum loss of life it needs to be done tonight. You better slow down and move cautiously in the morning Scott. The bad guys know you are on the way and they aren’t playing around. You have twelve men swinging in the Nevada wind to prove that and eight more that are missing. I would suggest you guys hunker down for the night, get to secure places and wait. If you don’t hear back from us then it might be a good idea to head away from this place early tomorrow morning.”

“Retreat is not in my vocabulary Francis. Who is that with you? That must be the rookie scout because I know Janie and Em well.”

“Sitting next to me is the Night Ranger and Calamity Jane is here too. So is the Black Widow but she was shot two days ago. Nothing life threatening but she can’t fight right now.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it, the ladies and my dogs. Those men down at Javier’s ranch are in serious trouble. Speaking for myself, I don’t think they have a chance tonight.”

Scott grinned and then broke out in hearty laugh. Lynn had never met the man known as the Liberator before but she instantly liked him.

“Well hell. That just about evens the odds doesn’t it? I will wait here tonight to see if I hear from you sometime during the night. We are a good ten miles away from your location in some rugged mountain terrain. Good luck Francis.”

Then the screen went back to the Free America logon.

“Have you ever met the Liberator?” asked Lynn.

“I met him one time before in person a long time ago. The Pale Rider introduced me to him at the Main Base. You?”

“Never, but he seems like he might be a great leader. So what is the plan Francis?”

He sat on the boulder thinking and looking at Jane, then Lynn and then Emily.

“Em, you stay here in these woods with the pack and the horses. Stay out of sight. Why don’t me and you along with Janie sneak back up to that ridge in the thick brush on the left and watch what is going on down at that ranch for the next couple of hours, scope out the layout? That will give us plenty of time to figure out something I hope. We might have to resort to poison when it comes down to it. I ain’t gonna’ let all those government boys run loose in these mountains. Like I said earlier, the wind is blowing in the right direction.”

* * * * *

It was now dark. Francis, Jane, Lynn and Emily were standing around a large flat boulder scanning two notebook sized pieces of paper. The white paper reflected some crude drawings Francis had made after scanning the Javier ranch with his two female scouts for two hours earlier in the day. They had seen a lot of things. They never heard another word from Data or Zak. Emily had been keeping a watchful eye on her notebook computer. The geeks at the Secondary Base had not found out anything that was not already contained in a scout’s notebook computer. It they had, they would have made contact.

“All right, it will be midnight soon and I think we have a workable plan. Risky, but workable and maybe no one will get killed except the bad guys. Those bastards at the ranch are too cocky. They don’t have any guards posted as far as I can see and they are all bunched up at the ranch. I didn’t even see a guard posted on the Javier trail. Plus they have been celebrating all day long, getting drunk tonight in anticipation of their great victory tomorrow and the reward money they think they will be receiving. I viewed twenty or thirty bounty hunters that were drinking and hanging around in front of the bunkhouse. The horses on the front lawn are loaded with RPG’s so I don’t think we have to worry about that. They know Free America has no air support.”

“They have been partying heavily today I can say that. There are a bunch of drunks down there tonight. How many do you think are in that long bunkhouse?” asked Jane.

“It’s hard to tell. I counted two hundred and eighty horses with saddles in front of the farmhouse. Some of those horses in the rear corral might be government horses too. The fools left their long rifles and RPG’s in their saddles on the front yard. I think the biggest threat is automatic pistols that the assholes usually carry and I am sure there are some small automatics in the crowd. The bunkhouse I am not worried about. Whoever is in there is dead once we set off my bombs. What does worry me is the main farmhouse and that stand of tents by the gallows where the dead scouts are hanging. There are twenty big tents pitched there and no telling how many bums are in them,” answered Francis.

“I saw them popping out of those tents every now and then today and taking pot shots at the scouts’ bodies today. Those bastards were using our scouts for target practice,” said Jane.

“Okay, let’s go over this again before we leave, just to make sure. Jane, you pitch one of my poison bombs through the double doors at the entrance to the bunkhouse once we all are in position. The wind is blowing right and that should be no problem for you. Nobody will be running out of those double doors after the pipe bomb goes off. Then you walk to the farmhouse. Don’t run. In the dark, when the bomb goes off there is going to be mass confusion. Got it?”

“Easy enough,” she said.

“Lynn, you take care of the back entrance to the bunkhouse. Just throw the poison bomb through a rear opening or a window and then get away. The poison is not the type that will kill on contact, only when you breathe it. I gave you the special nose filters Doc made so keep them where they should be. You have a spare pair in case you need them and after you push the red button on the bomb you will have five seconds before it goes off. Retreat to the trees behind the bunk house then open up with the Big X on those tents after the bomb detonates. You said you have two seven hundred and fifty round drums so use up one drum firing on those tents. How long does it take you to switch drums?”

“I can do it in less than three seconds.”

“That is damn fast! Take some extra one hundred shot magazines with you just in case. Once you take care of tent city, walk, don’t run to the back of the farmhouse and keep alert. Once I open up on the lower floor of the farmhouse and Jane joins me with her AK 47 I am sure there will be some creeps hauling ass out of the windows in the rear and the back door. I want you to kill every one of them. Once we get that far we will go from there. The poison in the bunkhouse will only be effective for thirty seconds then it goes inert. This plan should kill most of them but not all of them. The second floor of the farmhouse is gonna’ be a fucker but I will handle that. These idiots are not going to know what hit them. If I am lucky I will get Javier alive. You just stay on your toes Lynn. You are the one who has the most dangerous part of this operation. Are there any questions?”

“Are you gonna’ be okay up on this ridge all alone Em?” asked Lynn.

“I should be. I can still fire my pistol and I won’t be alone. The dogs will be here to guard me. You guys just be careful.”

“I take it we are walking down to the ranch?” asked Jane.

“Why not? If we are successful we will have our pick of horses to ride back,” laughed Francis.

The three scouts picked up their weapons and disappeared into the dark moving down the slope of the ridge slowly. Emily and the dog pack moved to a place where they could observe the valley from high above.

“This is the craziest thing I have ever been part of guys. I just don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this,” said Emily looking down on the Javier farmhouse from the ridge and talking to the three dogs.

She continued to fret and speak softly to the animals. Finally after a minute she looked down to see that only Sarge and Schultz were silently standing next to her legs.

“Oh no! Guys? Where is Major?” she asked.

Both dogs looked at her as if they understood her question   Finally Schultz turned his head and looked in the shadows. He then raised his right leg pointing into the dark where Francis, Lynn and Jane had disappeared.

“Shit! Francis is gonna’ kill me but at least I don’t have that feeling of dread anymore for some reason. I am glad Major decided to tag along.”

Sarge remained seated next to Emily while Schultz settled down to the ground with his head on his paws and his ears erect.

It took the three Free America scouts twenty minutes to work their way silently through the forest and down the mountainside to where they were on flat land. They stood another five minutes in the dark surveying their hostile surroundings before Francis gave them a hand signal and then went into action. He moved to his left into the herd of horses at the front of Javier’s farmhouse while Lynn melded into the dark forest to the right. Jane stayed where she was, thirty yards away from the entrance to the big bunkhouse. It looked a lot larger up close than it did on the ridge. The plan was for her to wait exactly ten minutes before she sauntered out of the woods with her AK47 and black poisonous canister in her right hand. All she was required to do was push a small, red button on the right side or the black cylinder and heave it through the open doors. Then she was to walk to the front of the large herd of government horses standing in front of the farmhouse and open up on the wood structure with her gun. Nine minutes and forty five seconds passed. She started to move.

It took Lynn five minutes to work her way through the Juniper and white pine forest on the right side of the bunkhouse. She stopped in a thick stand of Juniper trees, checked her watch and waited. She had the Big X with a seven hundred and fifty shot drum cradled in her left arm and Francis’ bomb in her right hand. For a second she thought she heard the crunch of a branch on the ground nearby. She froze and listened. After two minutes she heard nothing more other than the usual social ruckus originating from the bunk house. After nine minutes and forty five seconds passed she walked to the right rear of the bunkhouse. The rear door was shut but both windows were open. She pushed the red button on the bomb and threw it through an open window. She turned and ran to the edge of the trees where she was before. From this position she had a clear bead on the tent city that was directly west of the bunkhouse.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion, a lot larger than she expected. Francis, for some reason, had a little more than deadly poison mixed in this particular pipe bomb. When the explosion occurred Lynn opened up on the twenty tents with her XP8 swinging the weapon in front of her body from side to side several times. The hissing sound from the lightweight gun lasted for a full minute as she held down the trigger. She watched as the canvas tents were ripped to pieces by the NATO bullets erupting from her rifle. She didn’t see anyone crawling out of the shredded remnants of canvas hanging from some of the tent poles. Some tents quickly caught fire and started to burn. From inside the bunkhouse there were no sounds. As she started to change her spent drum she heard the sounds of two AK47s bark in the night. She heard people screaming and yelling from the farmhouse.

Suddenly, Lynn found herself face down on the desert floor. Something or someone had pushed or kicked her in the back, hard. As she quickly rolled over on the hard ground she saw a Hussein Guard member of Hispanic origins raising his pistol aiming at her body from less than eight feet away. At that moment she saw a flash of brown fur violently hit the man on his left on the upper part of his body knocking him to the ground. The man dropped his gun in the fall and began to scream for help. The Hussein Guard soldier thrashed around on the hard Nevada soil with a big ball of brown fur on top of him. In less than ten seconds the soldier ceased moving. Help had failed to arrive.

“Major! Thank God!” she exclaimed as she scrambled to her feet.

The brown Shepherd looked at her briefly perking his ears and then disappeared into the woods where she was standing before. Lynn was breathing hard while she changed the drum on her weapon and stopped briefly to look at the Homeland Security guardsman lying on his back. His eyes had a vacant stare and blood was oozing out of a part of his neck that was…missing.

Lynn gathered her thoughts and every impulse in her body told her to run to the back of the farmhouse but she remembered the Reaper’s instructions to walk. On the way, she saw three or four wounded soldiers crawling out of the tents she had ripped apart with the Big X. She sent short three round bursts into each one of them and continued to walk to where Francis told her he wanted her to be. Once in position she stood behind a stout boulder and waited.

Jane, who had a seventy five round drum on her AK47, and Francis, who was similarly equipped, sent round after round of bullets through the lower floor of the clapboard farmhouse. Just as Francis had warned several men barreled out of the back door of the sprawling structure with guns blazing. Lynn easily cut them to pieces with the Big X. She wasn’t counting but Lynn guessed she had cut down fifteen men during the time Jane and Francis poured bullets through the bottom floor. Finally, the shooting stopped. The only noise that could be heard in the night air was the crackling of a raging fire where the bunkhouse once stood and the whinny of horses. Lynn was holding her position when she saw a familiar figure walking toward her on the left side of the farmhouse carrying an AK47 in a position in his arms that was ready to fire. It was Francis.

“That didn’t go too bad but I don’t think we are through.”

“Major saved my life tonight,” said Lynn almost apologetically.

“What? Did he follow you?”

“Yes he did thank God. I will tell you about it later. What next?”

“Good dog,” said Francis softly while turning to look at the farmhouse.

Francis moved behind the boulder and crouched by Lynn.

“We wait for awhile. Janie has the front covered. In five minutes she is gonna’ send a RPG2 into the right corner of the big farmhouse I hope. Janie kind of gets carried away with weapons like an RPG2. That is Javier’s master bedroom suite on this corner of the house on the second floor. We are gonna’ smoke his sorry ass out of his house and try to take him alive.”

Four minutes passed and no one exited the burning house. It was a large farmhouse and the part that was on fire was on the right front corner which was not anywhere near the bedroom suite where Javier was hiding. Francis and Lynn kept vigilant, looking for anyone moving into position at the upper or lower windows. The long bunkhouse off to their left was now completely engulfed in flames, burning violently and providing eerie illumination in the immediate vicinity. Lynn could see the area in the trees were she had previously hidden and for a brief instant saw the reflection of a pair of red eyes, looking in her direction. Major was still lurking nearby. There were no gunshots.

Finally Francis yelled.

“Okay Javier! I know you’re up there! This is Francis and I warned you to never sell out you chicken shit! Get out here now! You better talk to me!”

There was silence. Thirty seconds passed when Lynn and Francis heard a loud explosion erupt from the front of the farmhouse. The explosion was so loud it made Lynn jump. From the back of the farmhouse where she stood with Francis she could see orange and yellow flames, licking at the black Nevada sky over the second story rooftop.

“That was Janie. Javier’s lucky she didn’t send it into the upper floor. Janie is really pissed off tonight about the hanging of the scouts. If she has to fire another grenade it’s not gonna’ be good for Javier.”

“Good Lord! The house is really on fire now!”

“Yeah, that will move the rats out. When anyone comes out of that house I want you to wound them in their legs with that fancy rifle. Kill them only if you have to.”

Lynn reached down on the Big X and switched it to single shot status. Then she raised the rifle to her head to use the night optical scope.

“I see somebody, no, more than one person moving around in the room with the back door. It looks like they are thinking about making a run for it,” she said.

“If they have a gun, shoot the arm with the gun. Hell, even if they don’t have a gun shoot them somewhere. Are you a good enough shot to do that? We are a hundred and fifty feet away.”

At that moment another explosion rocked the air. Jane had fired another RPG2 into the same corner of the burning house.

“You better hurry up and get out of there Javier! There is one pissed off female scout in your front yard with a hundred RPG’s at her feet! You know her Javier! It’s Calamity Jane and she never liked you anyways! You never should have hung her friends you sorry bastard!”

Then Francis ducked down behind the boulder next to Lynn and laughed.

“You know, I am really enjoying this. It is one of those moments in life you want to remember for the rest of your life.”

There was more silence for a few seconds. Finally a voice responded.

“It’s me Francis! It’s me, your friend Javier! Don’t shoot! I am coming out with my family! Would you tell Calamity Jane that she is my friend?”

“Who else is coming out with you? You son of a bitch?” yelled Francis.

“Don’t be mad at me my friend! I did not hang or shoot the scouts! I had nothing to do with that!”

“Shoot the scouts? What did he mean by that?” asked Lynn.

“I think he just fucked up and let us know what happened to the missing eight scouts,” hissed Francis.

Slowly the rear door opened and a portly, bald Hispanic man moved out on the wooden porch. With him were his two daughters and two other men who were attempting to stay behind the family members.

“Do you still want me to shoot them Francis?” asked Lynn.

“Wait until they get down the steps and are standing on the ground. The two guys in the rear are using them as shields so they must have guns in their backs.”

“I can take care of that for you. I can see them in my magnified optical scope,” replied the Night Ranger.

Lynn popped off two quick shots, sending Javier, one of his daughters and the two men behind them violently spinning to the ground. The standing woman screamed as well as the four people who spun to the ground.

“Did you kill them?” asked Francis standing up.

“No I didn’t kill them. I winged the girl on her left shoulder to get the guy in back of her. I put one through your friend’s right shoulder at about the same place they got Emily to get the other guy behind him. I could tell through my scope whether they were left handed or right handed because that was the only hand they were holding in the air, the hand on Javier and his daughter’s shoulder. The shots stung them like hell but didn’t kill them.”

“Smart girl,” said Francis patting the young female scout on her back and standing erect.

The two scouts moved from behind the tan granite boulder and Jane came from the left side of the house carrying another RPG2 on her shoulder aimed at the farmhouse.

“Is that the little slime ball the trail is named after? Good lord! What a greasy looking turd! I don’t remember you saying a thing about this shit head being so fat! Lynn, use that fancy rifle and trim off a few pounds,” said Jane.

“Lynn has already trimmed off a few ounces Janie. You settle down and keep an eye out for stragglers that may be in the woods. And don’t shoot Major. He is tramping around the woods at the rear of the bunkhouse and probably Sarge too.”

“Then I don’t think I need to worry about any stragglers,” said Jane.

The rugged scout pulled the trigger on the launch assembly of the RPG she was carrying, sending the large grenade into the center of the farmhouse. There was a final, violent explosion and the fire roared even louder.

“Good grief Janie! You are such a redneck sometimes!” yelled Francis.

The standing daughter was still screaming while the four people who had been shot by Lynn were rolling on the ground holding their wounds and uttering loud sounds of pain.

Lynn stepped forward and hit the standing girl with the butt of her rifle in the mouth.

“Shut up!” she said as the woman grabbed her mouth.

Francis looked on the ground to see two pistols lying nearby. The two foreign Homeland Security commanders had emerged from the house armed.

“Get up you scum bags and follow me. Get up now or you are gonna’ be toast in a minute once that fire gets going. Move it!” yelled Francis while kicking the two Hussein Guard members.

All the wounded struggled to their feet.

“You were right about the guns Night Ranger. So tell me Javier, old friend, give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill these two friends of yours?”

“They are not my friends! They are not my friends Francis! They are the commanders of the Homeland Security soldiers that were here!”

“Is that right?”

Francis shouldered his AK47 and pulled out one of his Colt 1911s. The two foreign nationals raised their good hands in a motion for Francis not to shoot them. Francis aimed his Colt at the face of one of the foreigners.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

The man babbled in a language Francis did not understand.

“They both are from the Middle East somewhere!” Javier quickly volunteered.

   Francis shot both of the men directly through the palm of their good hand, blasting a large hole through the flesh and sending them into screams of agony.

“Now we won’t have to worry about them using a gun for awhile.”

Jane was studying the standing daughter intently, the daughter that had not been shot by the Night Ranger. She noticed a piece of paper in the right breast pocket of her blouse. As she reached for the paper the daughter backed away. Jane stepped forward quickly and snatched the paper. She looked at the paper and then gasped.

“Oh my God!”

“What?” asked Lynn.

Jane handed Lynn the paper while looking at the young woman with the bleeding mouth and showed anger in her eyes, not answering Lynn..

Lynn looked at the piece of paper. It was a printed digital photo. In the photo Javier’s daughter, her sister and her father were standing over a body with the man’s head propped up by a small chunk of wood, much like a photo you would see of a hunter who had bagged a prize elk. All three were smiling and the two girls were holding rifles while each woman had placed a foot on the back of the body. The body was one of the scouts hanging by the farmhouse.

“You fucking cunts!’ Lynn said.

Lynn turned to Francis and handed him the photo. At the same time she took his Colt 1911 from his right hand. He didn’t know what she was doing but he offered no resistance. The weapon was loaded and cocked, ready to use.

“You told me I should practice with this pistol.”

Then the Night Ranger calmly walked up to both daughters and shot them directly in the face at point blank range, one right after the other. She aimed the pistol at Javier who was shaking badly and sobbing uncontrollably from viewing the execution of his daughters.

“I should kill you Javier but I will leave that for the Reaper.”

Then she handed the Colt back to Francis, then turned and walked a few feet away. She then placed her fingers to her mouth and whistled. A big brown ball of fur trotted out of the woods from behind the bunkhouse.

Francis studied the photo for a long moment and tucked it in his coat pocket.

“I’m sure Doc is gonna’ be pissed about this photo. Get on your feet now!”

The three wounded men struggled to their feet. Francis turned to look around for a place to spend the night. Looking to the north at the end of the runway for Javier’s plane he saw a metal building reflecting the light from the burning farmhouse which was now a raging inferno.

“I reckon we can stay there for tonight. You two wait here and keep your eyes open and stay low out of sight. Keep these fuckers where they stand and if they move a muscle, shoot them dead. Major, stay!” he ordered.

“You mean bleib, don’t you?” asked Lynn.

Francis grinned.

“You are getting pretty good with German commands. I will be back with Em, Sarge and Schultz. Then me and the pack will check out the hangar. It’s going to get cold tonight so it would be nice to find a warm place to spend the night.”

By now the farmhouse was totally engulfed in flames.

“I know where a warm place is but not in that house. Not tonight. We will be waiting,” said Jane.

Francis mounted one of the government horses tethered in the front area of the burning farmhouse and returned fifteen minutes later with Emily and his animals.

“How is it going ladies?”

“Your buddy just continues to lie on the ground and cry. He dropped to the ground one minute after you left but we didn’t kill him…yet. The two foreigners started to talk in a language I don’t know but Jane stopped that with the butt of her AK. She hit them so hard she knocked their teeth out.”

“Good job woman. I will be back. Me and the pack are going to the hangar to check it out. If the foreigners act up kill them or better yet, shoot them in the foot. Hell, shoot both of their feet if they act up. I will drag them to the hangar using one of their own damn horses.”

Francis took off into the night down the narrow runway with the pack following behind him. Soon he returned.

“We have a place to stay. You wouldn’t believe what I found in that building and behind it”

“What about all these horses and the scouts hanging from the ropes?” asked Jane.

“What about them? The horses ain’t going anywhere tonight and neither are the dead scouts. It’s been a long day, it’s late, cold, we done our job and most important, none of us got shot or killed. Let’s settle in for the night and get the message to Zak and Scott. We will have plenty of help tomorrow when it comes to the horses and the dead scouts.”

The two women mounted their horses and herded the three prisoners down the runway. Francis had the hangar door opened once they arrived. During the trip Emily galloped up beside them on her horse escorted by the dog pack. It was at that moment that Lynn realized that she was indeed, wore out from the strenuous day. She had been running on adrenaline.

“This place has power from solar batteries but we need to stay as dark as possible tonight. Bring the three assholes into the hangar so I can secure them,” ordered Francis.

Lynn dismounted Butch and prodded the three wounded men into the hangar. Inside she could see what looked like a plane.

Francis found some electrical wire and bound up the wounded prisoners. Then he told the two German Shepherds to guard.

“I ain’t tending their wounds. Those foreigners have diseases in their blood that I don’t want to be a part of. They can bleed to death for all I care, including Javier.”

“Shouldn’t one of us stand guard for the night?” asked Emily.

“You can if you want to Em. I will be standing guard for a while some where else but not over these three. Sarge and Major will have that task covered.”

“What happens if they start trying to break their bonds?” she asked.

“When one of those jerks move one part of their body then that part of their body will receive a wicked dog bite. If they lie still they will be okay.”

Emily holstered her pistol and paused to look at the three men face down on the concrete floor with the two big German Shepherds sitting at their bound feet.

“At least Javier has stopped crying.”

“Let me show you girls something. Francis closed the hangar door and produced his small flashlight. He shined the strong small light on the plane.

“So? Big deal! It’s a stupid plane that looks like it was built for a monkey,” said Jane.

“Yes it is a stupid plane. That plane is a thirty three million dollar stupid plane. That is one of those spy drones that Zak always talks about. There is more than a quarter of a billion dollars sitting on the ground behind this hangar.”

“For real? Maybe that is how they are tracking scouts in this part of the state,” said Lynn.

“I think so. There are ten more of those planes sitting on the ground out behind this hangar. It is pretty apparent that Javier sold us out to the highest bidder. There must be a computer around here to control these planes. We will search for it in the morning. Right now we need to send Scott a message, feed the pets, get some supper and some rest. It has been another long day. This place ain’t too bad. There are some small space heaters that we can use and there is a bathroom too. I also saw a couple of sofas in the office. I will take the first watch ladies.”

Lynn looked out of the side windows of the hangar.

“I think that fire can be seen miles away, especially if you were high up in the surrounding mountains,” said Lynn.

“That’s good for us. All the Hussein Guard patrols and bounty hunters in this area know about Javier’s ranch. Tonight they think that a major ground force from Free America is in these mountains and got their little buddy Javier. They don’t have any idea that it was the four of us and the pack. They won’t come looking for trouble tonight. That thousand man force that has been dispatched is having second thoughts if they are looking to the west tonight and can see this fire. By the size of the fire, I am fairly sure they can see it tonight. We will figure out our next move after Scott gets here in the morning. Speaking for myself I plan on heading back to the Secondary Base with the three shit heads bleeding on the hangar floor tomorrow as soon as I can.”

* * * * *

Chapter Seven

A New Ranch

Scott was just cresting the top of a small mountain ridge on his horse when he met up with two of his forward scouts. Sitting on his horse and standing on the top of the ridge he looked across a small shallow valley to see two more of his forward scouts sitting on their horses relaxing on the next ridge conversing with an individual sitting on a large boulder. In the background behind the two scouts and the unknown person on the next ridge were two thick columns of black smoke that were rapidly rising into the Nevada blue sky. Scott shielded his eyes from the bright sun and squinted to identity the figure sitting on the flat boulder near his two scouts but could not make out who it was. For a brief moment he thought that it was Calamity Jane but realized that this female scout had brown hair. This female scout was also blessed with a body similar to what Janie had which brought a grin to Scott’s face. The two scouts he had joined on the ridge waiting for him to arrive began to report. In these days and times you could never be too safe, especially if you were the leader of a movement with a large reward on your head. Having advance scouts improved your odds for survival.

“Praise the Lord Scott! We finally have fresh horses, a lot of horses with saddles and weapons! You won’t believe what me and Tom just saw while standing on that next ridge looking down on the Javier ranch!” reported a scout who had just arrived.

“Let me borrow your binoculars for a moment Larry. Tell me Larry, what exactly did you and young Tom view on that yonder ridge, young man?” teased Scott.

Then he laughed. Tom and Larry were two of his best scouts.

Scott was a big man physically and the leader of the California resistance movement by Free America. Behind him winding on the Javier trail in the prior valley were three hundred men on horses and a lot more scouts on foot. That was because they didn’t have enough horses. They had been on the move since two o’clock this morning starting out in the dark because of the message Francis had transmitted the evening before.  The message simply stated ‘come here in the morning, take your time and get your horses’. Francis was a man known to be short on words.

“There are a ton of government horses ready to go in front of a burnt out structure that are saddled and ready to go. There are also dead bodies on the ground lying everywhere and three spots on the ground that are black and still burning. It looks like there was a violent fight last night. The female scout on that next ridge has been sitting on that boulder waiting for us this morning and speaking with her I can tell you she is all business, kind of scary. She scares the shit out of me. She was loading some kind of fancy ammo drum for a fancy weapon I have never seen.  She also has two of the biggest damn German Shepherds I have ever seen in my life sitting beside her and they don’t look to friendly to me. Those two dogs looked like they meant business too. They didn’t growl at me but the big brown one was sitting behind her and every now and then he would bare his teeth at me when she wasn’t looking. I was scared to get off my horse and shake her hand!”

Scott continued to look through his binoculars at the gorgeous brunette and his two scouts who were on their horses apparently still conversing with the woman. The woman never looked in his direction nor in the direction of his scouts. She was focused on whatever she had in her hands. He could see boxes of ammo nearby on the boulder.

“I see another dog, a small one sitting beside her. What the hell is she, a veterinarian like Todd?”

“No, I don’t think she is an animal vet at all. Todd never carried a weapon like she has. It looks wicked. And that small dog sitting next to her is something else!  That little fucker was growling at me the whole time I was there. He acted more threatening then those German Shepherds while I spoke with her.  I don’t know what kind of dog he is but he certainly has a poor attitude. That whole group sitting on that boulder has shitty attitudes but she told me she was a part of the Reaper Crew. ”

“Well, that chick ain’t the Black Widow or Calamity Jane!  I know both of those women well and if you don’t get to know those two well you could say the same thing about them. I reckon riding with Francis will put a woman in that frame of mind. I guess we will find out who she is.”

“She is one good looking woman! Zak is getting better at selecting female scouts for field duty for sure. Looking at the valley behind her I think she knows how to fight pretty good too!”

The Liberator spurred his horse and headed down the shallow valley to the next ridge. He was anxious to meet this new female scout.  It took him fifteen minutes to reach the next ridge as his column of three hundred scouts plus and their horses plodded ahead. Soon he was resting on his horse five feet away from the unknown female scout. He soon saw that his scout that reported to him had not exaggerated. This female scout was gorgeous. And the woman and her dogs seemed to have shitty attitudes.

From this vantage point on the final ridge he could see the Javier Ranch and its outlying terrain. What he viewed caused him to frown and then smile. He saw two massive piles of black rubble that were still burning in many places sending thick black and white smoke into the sky. He also saw a large herd of horses in front of one pile of rubble and one hundred yards beyond that there was a large circular corral that was full of healthy horses. Just as his advanced scout reported, there were a lot of dead bodies spread on the ground between both piles of burning rubble. The bodies were laying on the ground….everywhere.

While he surveyed the carnage from the ridge the young female scout continued to load a large cylinder with bullets, ignoring his presence. The two German Shepherds flanking her sides on the boulder eyeballed him intently not making a sound or moving. However, they were not ignoring his presence.  They could have easily jumped off the boulder and been on top of him in a flash. The smaller dog was sitting to the right of the young woman’s leg, glaring at Scott and growling…loudly. The brunette made no move or uttered any command to quiet the small animal. She let him growl.

“Hello young lady. My name is Scott. Could you make sure that small dog doesn’t try to tear my head off?” he asked with a laugh.

“Schultz, halt die Schnauze!” she said.

Schultz quit growling and lied down beside her leg, keeping a watchful eye on Scott.

Scott grinned but he didn’t dismount his horse.

“I don’t know what you just said but thank you. I was worried about him tearing my head off! ”

“You don’t have to worry about that Scott. He is too small to reach your head. It’s your balls you better be worried about. He is known in this part of Nevada for doing that,” she answered as she laid the drum she was loading down on the boulder.

“What kind of weapon is that drum for? I have never seen anything like it!”

She finally looked at Scott. He had never seen a woman with such piercing brown eyes in his life. She was by any measure one good looking woman.

“That drum is for my XM8 assault rifle. I call it the Big X.”

“I have heard about that rifle! Where did you get that?”

“Zak gave it to me for making good grades in scout school. It’s a pretty good gun. I like it. You can kill a large amount of men with it in a short amount of time.”

“I reckon so. It looks like you, Francis, Emily and Janie were busy last night. I know Calamity Jane and the Black Widow…very well. Who are you may I ask?”

She looked directly at Scott with those piercing brown eyes which made him squirm in his saddle. It seemed that her eyes burned through his head.

“Do you want to know my proper Christian name or my handle?” she asked not smiling.

“I think both would be nice,” he replied.

“Okay. My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley. My handle is the Night Ranger,” she said sliding off the boulder and extending her right hand.

Scott took her hand and shook it, keeping his eyes on the two German Shepherds, who arose from their sitting positions and were now on all four feet, keeping their eyes on Scott. He noticed that for a woman, she had a firm handshake.

“I am Scott,” he answered.

“You are the scout known as the Liberator in these parts. I have heard of you. Emily and Janie speak highly of you. It is a pleasure to meet you Scott,” answered Lynn.

“Who are your four legged friends?”

“The black one is named Sarge, the brown one is named Major and the little one is named Schultz. They will shake your hand too if you want.”

Scott looked at the three animals but decided it would be better for now to stay on his horse.

“Would they bite me?”

“Not unless I tell them too. If you get off your horse the small one might pee on you though, if he doesn’t like you.”

“I think I will pass on that for now. Are they your dogs?”

Lynn hesitated before answering the question but she finally spoke.

“Yes, they are. You have quite a lot of scouts behind you. We can use some help this morning in caring for the herd. There is a lot of horse flesh on the floor of the valley for just Emily and Jane to take care of, although they are trying. And Emily is hurt but she is a tough girl and tells us she is doing okay but I can tell she is moving slow. They have been working hard since the sun came up to do that while I have been sitting up here on this rock doing nothing waiting for you and your slow ass men.  There are another sixty plus horses with equipment in a temporary corral east of here down the Javier trail that needs to be rounded up and brought here today. They are about four to three hours away, that’s Francis riding time. We rigged a temporary corral out of rope to where they could get water but the only thing they have had to eat the last day is grass so they may be starting to get restless. They are all government horses and fine animals. I would suggest that your boys take a couple of bags of oats with them. If you don’t have a bag of oats we can provide you one of our spare bags.”

“That is what Zak told me last night. How long a ride is that?”

“Well, if you are riding a mule it is a four hour ride. With relief horses you can get there in an hour or so. It is where the stream breaks off the Javier trail. They are in the woods across the stream. The horses have all the equipment and are probably getting antsy this morning feeling they been abandoned. I suggest you get ten scouts down the trail to get them as soon as possible.”

“Is the trail clear?”

“If you mean is the trail clear of Hussein Guard patrols and bounty hunters I imagine it is…after last night. The fires could easily be seen for a hundred miles around in these mountains. I don’t think any enemy is headed this way after last night unless they can fly.”

Scott laughed.

“I imagine so. We were fifteen miles away and could see the fires in the night sky. You guys put on quite a show and the show lasted a long time. Data sent me some satellite images of the fire and they are magnificent! Larry, take nine scouts and head down the trail and get those horses now!”

The scout that was talking to Lynn motioned for some men. Before leaving with his men Lynn spoke.

“It was nice meeting you Larry. I suggest you get down to the ranch and grab ten horses to go with you to get there fast. There are plenty of RPG’s on those horses that might come in handy if you do run into trouble. We saw a Hussein Patrol yesterday that was a two day ride away from the location we started from early in the morning. They may still be on the way here but I doubt it after last night.”

Larry and his nine men took off down the trail to the burnt out ranch to get the relief horses.

Larry leaned off his horse and shook the Night Ranger’s hand.

“It has been a pleasure meeting you Lynn Beasley.”

Then he and his nine men took off down the trail to the Javier Ranch.

“So you, Emily, Jane and Francis did all that last night? It is hard to believe,” said Scott.

“Yeah, we did all that. We surprised the hell out of them and it was over with fairly quickly, maybe in twenty minutes thanks to Francis and his pipe bombs. It was a fairly violent confrontation but Francis came up with a simple but brilliant plan. Janie told me last week that the Reaper usually keeps things simple.”

“Did Javier get it?”

“No, he is still alive, him and the two head honchos of the Hussein Guard. Francis wanted to take them back to the base.”

“What about Javier’s daughters? Did they get killed?”

“They got killed in the battle. Collateral damage,” answered Lynn.

“Where are my scouts?”

“Are you asking me about the dead ones?”

“Yes,” he answered softly.

“Use your binoculars and look to the left rear of the smoking pile of rubble on the right. That used to be Javier’s bunkhouse.”

Scott lifted his binoculars and located the gallows with his twelve scouts hanging at the end of twelve short ropes.

“I am sorry that we haven’t cut them down. Francis said for us to leave them until you and your men got here. And we have been extremely busy this morning caring for the living.”

Scott slowly lowered his binoculars.

“There is no need to apologize. I want my men to see this. Those sorry mother fuckers! I never did like or trust Javier. That is one long scorch mark in the land on the right side. How many men were in the structure and how did you manage to kill them?”

“We killed them with Francis’s poison at first. It was easy. Jane took the front and I took the back. They were dead within seconds. Francis also had something in the bombs to set the place on fire quickly. It was burning like hell within one minute.”

“How many men were in the bunkhouse?”

“Who knows or gives a fuck?  There were a lot. There are a hundred and thirty two bodies lying on the ground between the bunkhouse and the farmhouse. We went around this morning and got the weapons off their bodies if they had any weapons. There are three hundred and eighty four horses in front of the farmhouse with saddles and weapons. The horses in the rear corral didn’t have saddles but there were forty six saddles on the top fence post with weapons. You do the math.”

Lynn placed her fingers in her mouth and whistled. Immediately a black stallion emerged from the nearby woods and trotted quickly to stand beside her.

“I have been waiting up here for two hours for your arrival itching to help my friends. Are you ready to go to the ranch?” asked the Night Ranger.

“I am. I see Janie and Emily down there. Where is Francis?”

“He is probably sleeping in that hangar at the rear of the ranch. He and the dogs pulled an all nighter last night. He was worried about someone lurking in the hills to get revenge. I reckon the federal government and Javier had no one left to come at us or maybe they did. Francis would have killed them and not told us about it unless we asked this morning,” she answered as she deftly mounting her horse.

Scott could tell the young woman could ride a mountain horse by the way she easily hopped on her ride.

“Or maybe he was worried about some bounty hunter skulking around waiting to collect the big reward Francis has on his head,” said Scott.

“No. I don’t think Francis is worried at all about that one bit even though he has a hefty reward on his head. He was worried about me, Janie, Em, his mule, the horses we ride or the dogs getting picked off. He is one good man.”

The little dog on the boulder rose to all four feet, hopping around and whining.

“Absrung!” said Lynn slapping the front part of her saddle.

The terrier jumped from the rough surface of the boulder to land directly in the saddle between Lynn’s legs. The two German Shepherds jumped down from the large rock and headed down the trail to the ranch ahead of the female scout. Lynn followed the big dogs without saying another word to Scott.

Scott turned in his saddle and motioned for his column of men to follow. Fifteen minutes later he and his men were on the front area of the Javier ranch. Many men quickly dismounted to help Jane and Emily with their task.

“Jane! Jane! Emily!” yelled Scott as he approached the herd of horses.

He dismounted and walked up to Jane and Emily. He embraced them both for a long moment.

“What’s up big man? You are looking good! Have you lost some weight? It looks like to me you have lost some weight!” exclaimed Jane.

“What happened to you Em?” he asked with concern in his voice, seeing her arm was in a sling.

The Night Ranger did not stop and continued to head to the hangar where Francis was sleeping. The dog pack followed her horse.

“I took a bullet a couple of days ago. I was lucky. There were two new scouts who were with us who were not lucky.  Francis played doctor and I am feeling better.”

“Did I know the two scouts who were killed?”

“No. They were new. Their names were Donnie and Chris. Both were good boys. Your guys will find them when they get to those horses we left by the creek. Francis put them in body bags and left them on a high boulder so no animals would mess with them. If your guys miss them then we will get them on our way back. You look good Scott but it looks like you have lost some weight,” said Emily.

“Fighting is the best weight loss program you can find.”

“You got that right. There was a hell of a fight last night. Three scouts against three or four hundred plus government goons. Janie, Francis and Lynn did good, real good. I wasn’t that much help.”

“I am impressed. It looks like you have been busy ladies.”

More of his men dismounted and relieved Jane and the injured Emily of the chore of feeding and caring for the newly acquired herd without being ordered to. Scott’s scouts were happy to see the horses. Scott watched as the Night Ranger continued to ride away to the hangar.

“I am so grateful to get these horses, girls. I was getting worried. It gets real tough when you don’t have adequate transportation out in these hills.  So Javier sold us out?”

“He sure did the scum bag. You can talk with him if you want. Francis has him and two of his buddies hog tied in the hangar. Francis and Lynn wounded all three of them and I don’t think the wounds are life threatening unless they get infected. Francis didn’t bother to stitch them up or nothing. He wants them to live to take them to the Secondary Base for Doc but he certainly doesn’t care if they die, at least right now,” replied Jane.

“I bet that piece of shit Javier freaked out that his two daughters got killed in the crossfire. Accidents do happen. Didn’t Francis save Javier and his daughters one time from some renegades?”

“That’s what I heard. Where did you hear that the two daughters were killed by accident last night?” asked Emily.

“The Night Ranger told me just now. She said they were killed by collateral gunfire.”

“She said that. Hmmm,” said Jane.

Scott was a good friend with both women and knew them well. He could tell that he had said something to stir his two female friends’ emotions.

“Hmmm? What do you mean by that Janie?” he asked.

She took out the photo that was in Javier’s daughters pocket and handed it to Scott. Francis had assigned the photo to Calamity Jane to make sure the photo got to Zak because he was planning on heading to the Twin Caves sometime today.  Scott looked at the photo a long time.

“Damn! That piece of shit! Where is he?”

“He is in the hangar.”

“I am glad his daughters were accidentally killed now!” he exclaimed.

“Uh, Scott, they weren’t killed by any friendly fire. They were killed by unfriendly fire,” said Emily.

“What do you mean Em?”

“Remember the night when Georgia Boy got killed?” she asked.

Scott was silent for a moment.

“Of course I remember that night well. How could I ever forget it? That was me and Amanda’s first ride and it was one of the worst nights of my life.  That was the night the Pale Rider became the Pale Rider.”

“We all remember that horrible night. The same damn thing happened last night,” said Jane.

“Quit talking in riddles ladies! What happened?”

“We captured Javier, his two daughters and his two main goons alive last night. Francis made that his main objective. One of the daughters was winged by Lynn with that fancy gun she carries but was still alive and kicking. The other daughter didn’t have a scratch on her body. That daughter was acting kind of funky, like she was hiding something. I saw a piece of paper sticking out of her blouse pocket. I took that photo out of the standing daughter’s pocket. When I showed it to Lynn she looked at it for a long minute, handed it back to me and then she took Francis’ Colt 1911 pistol out of his hand. She said some cold remark to Francis about his demands that she practice with a colt instead of the pistol she carries. She then went to each daughter, shooting each one at point blank range in the face, killing them instantly.”

“Holy shit! Did Javier see that?”

“Everyone saw it. She was about to shoot Javier in the head while he was lying on the ground screaming his head off for mercy and Francis talked her out of shooting the grease ball. I thought she was going to kill all five of the survivors! She had the same look on her face Amanda had that night! It was downright scary!”

Scott turned to watch Lynn dismount her horse by the hangar. He watched as she disappeared inside.

“Damn! When I was speaking with her on the ridge she sent a chill up my spine too. It was like speaking with Amanda. Where did she come from?”

“She was in the group of FEMA camp 37 inmates that we freed a year ago. You should have seen her with that fancy gun she got from Zak. She used it well. That reminded us also of the Pale Rider. Me and Emily weren’t sure if she had it in her to kill but let me tell you, she is a cold blooded killer at any level or at least she became one last night,” said Jane.

“Her dogs seem that way too, especially the big brown one. He strikes me as a cold blooded killer.”

“Her dogs? Where did you hear that? Those are Francis’ mutts!” exclaimed Jane.

“They are? She said they were her dogs and those dogs sure act like they belong to her, especially the small one and that big brown one.”

Jane looked at Emily uneasily.

“Yeah, those animals seem to really like her and she likes them but they belong to Francis.”

Scott mounted his horse.

“I think they belong to her too. Let’s go wake up Francis,’ he said.

*****

.Lynn slid off Butch and opened the large hangar door. Walking into the hangar office she saw Francis in his sleeping bag on the floor. When he came in from his stint of guard duty Emily was on the sofa and the other two ladies had taken the loveseat and easy chair. He was sleeping soundly

Lynn stood over Francis with her hands on her hips and a grin on her face.

“Francis, wake up! Scott has arrived with his men!” she said loudly.

“So? Give him the horses. You don’t need me to do that. Let me sleep.”

“I am looking out the window and I see him, Janie, and Em coming this way along with a bunch of his scouts.”

“Good for them. Just give me ten more minutes.”

“Major, munter!” she said.

The brown Shepherd eased over to Francis’ sleeping bag and with his tale wagging he grabbed the reinforced edge. He pulled on the bag and slowly shook his big head. For him, this was a new game, wake up the master.

“Okay Major! I’m up already!” said Francis.

Francis sat up, rubbed his face then looked at the clock on the wall. He had gotten four hours of sleep.

Standing up he stretched and looked out the window. In the distance he saw hundreds of men and hundreds of horses in the field near the burnt farmhouse, all of them very busy.

“You know, since I hooked up with you ladies I sure have been losing sleep time. Yep, that looks like the big man. What did he say when he saw what was left of the ranch and all the horses?”

“Not much. I think he wants to see you.”

“I don’t know why. I hardly know him.”

“Well you are about to get to know him a little better. He should be out in the hangar just about now.”

“Swell. Tell him I will be out there in a couple of minutes. I have to get dressed.”

Francis eased out of his sleeping bag and strolled over to the office desk. He proceeded to don his three gun belts and other accessories. He was wearing the same clothes he wore last night.

“Can’t you uh… get dressed later?” asked Lynn impatiently.

“Nope.”

Francis continued to fasten his gun belts.

“You are the only man that I know that wears six Colt 1911s. You would think two would be enough.”

“That may be true for most people I reckon. Sometimes I have to kill more than fourteen people. It has happened a few times.”

He picked up four of his throwing knives placing them in holsters on his body and then placed two thirty two caliber two shot derringers in each of his coat pockets.

“There! Now I don’t feel naked!”

Ignoring Lynn he walked out the door to the hangar. Major sat patiently by the sleeping bag on the floor waiting for his next command…from Lynn.

She headed for the office door and over her shoulder she said.

“Major, folgen,” she said softly.

The big Shepherd rose to his four feet and followed closely behind her out into the hangar.

The Night Ranger’s command surprised the Reaper. He realized then that the young woman was spending her free time to learn the German language and it seemed she was a fast learner.

Francis had no trouble spotting Scott. The six foot six inch scout towered over the scouts that were with him in the hangar. Scott turned to look at Francis. When he did the black and brown Shepherds moved to stand beside Francis on each side of his body just to let the big man know that indeed, they were his dogs. The terrier moved to sit on the ground in front of Francis. It was a classic defensive maneuver.  Lynn was standing off to Francis’ left watching silently.

“It looks like the critters might be worried about me, especially the big one!” exclaimed Scott while laughing.

Francis turned to look at Major who was obediently sitting on his left keeping the focus of his attention on Scott. The big brown Shepherd never trusted anyone unless they were immediate family.

“Who? Major?” asked Francis.

“No. I was referring to the female scout standing behind you to your left! She is looking at me like she wants to tear me up!”

Francis turned his upper body to look at Lynn. When they locked eyes with each other he winked and then he turned back to face Scott.

  “You don’t have to worry about the ones with four legs. The pretty one with two legs and the big gun on her back does her own thing so I reckon you better keep an eye on her.  The four legged partners are her very good friends. If I were you I would only worry about the pretty one.”

Scott extended his hand. Francis shook his hand.

“It is nice to meet you again Francis! And it’s a pleasure to meet your friends! What do we have here in this hangar?”

“That is a government spy drone. There are ten more under canvas behind this hangar in the field by the runway. I think we have found the reason why a lot of our scouts have been killed the past ten months. Javier was letting them use his ranch as a base.”

Scott turned to see Javier and the two Hussein commanders lying on the floor not moving and bound by electrical wire. There were small pools of blood under their bodies. They were still alive.

“Why are they still alive?”

“The reason Lynn and I haven’t killed them yet is a personal one. It is because Doc wants to check them out and use them for an experiment.”

Scott smiled. He had heard about Doc and Francis’ crazy experiment.

“That is a grueling six day ride back to the Secondary Base through some dangerous territory.”

“I know. Actually it will take maybe eight, no more than nine days to make that trip. It depends on how the prisoners behave and how fast Betty wants to travel. With a couple of extra horses it shouldn’t be that bad. Plus I need to get Emily to Doc so he can check out her wound and do what he does just to be on the safe side.”

“My eternal thanks to the Reaper Crew for the horses. I needed those badly along with the weapons. You would think there would be more supplies than what I have seen at this ranch. I guess Javier was using his farmhouse as a warehouse but that is gone now.”

“No, that dickhead wasn’t doing that. There is a low profile building in the woods one hundred yards away to the east of this burnt out building. That is where he keeps some supplies but not all of them. Give me a chance to feed the dogs, Betty and Midnight then I will take you to his main supply stash. I think there may be a computer set up there that controls these droids, although Nellis might be the one controlling them. At any rate, his main stash of supplies including weapons will be found there.”

“Where is that?”

Francis pointed to a large mountain to the north bordering on the valley.

“We have to go up a clear hardpan trail on that mountain about a mile and half. You better let me lead. I was the one who showed Javier how to booby trap that trail two years ago.”

While Francis was speaking with Scott, Lynn had already opened some cans of dog food and was feeding the dog pack. Francis watched as she placed two dog biscuits on the top of each pile of dog food making the meal fancy. The animals were wolfing down the food as she petted all three, speaking with them softly. All three were wagging their tails.

“When I first rode up I thought those were her three dogs,” said Scott who was watching as well.

Francis strode over to Betty to get his water pail. He turned and while watching Lynn with the dog pack he answered.

“I think they might be. My dogs seem to love her and I have never seen them act like that with anyone.”

When he finished with Betty and Midnight he turned to see Lynn and the pack waiting. The morning meal with them was now finished. He led Midnight out of the hangar and mounted the horse. Scott and Lynn mounted their rides.

“Lynn, would you please take the pack with you to the supply house in the woods? I don’t think there are any traps on that short trail but if there are the dogs will let you know. You know what command to give the pack, don’t you?” he asked with a slight grin on his face.

“Sure. We will do that! What are you planning on doing?”

“I will wait right here for now and smoke a cigar until you and the pack return. Scott, could you have two of your men stand guard here over Javier and his buddies when we go up the mountain? Plus you should probably have twenty of your men go with Lynn just so you can see what you will be dealing with when it comes to supplies. That is a long, low slung warehouse and I am sure it is filled with goodies for your men. It will speed up the process of knowing what you have in that building.”

“I can do that.  How many men do we need to go up that mountain when you are ready?”

Francis pulled out one of his thin cigars and lit it, then slowly looked up the big mountain.

“Oh, I reckon you and one of your head scouts will do for now as long as the Night Ranger and the pack go with us.”

“You sure that will be enough?” Scott asked with a grin.

“Yep. I will have the Night Ranger and the pack go along with us. That should be more than enough for whatever or whoever is up there if there is anyone waiting on us, unless there are four hundred Hussein Guardsmen waiting up there. That might cause us a little trouble, but not much.”

Lynn spurred Butch to a walk and the dog pack instantly ran ahead of her. The additional men would easily catch up to her lead.

On her pretty face was a big grin.

* * * * *

Chapter Eight

Inheriting an Armory

Francis waited along with Scott for thirty minutes for Lynn’s return. During her absence several of Scott’s men opened the clear cockpit of the drone in the hangar and started to take digital pictures.

“What’s going on with the drone?” asked Francis.

“I got a hold of the old man and he along with Data got excited. Within a few minutes I was in a video conference with six or seven geeks in the background behind Data. I didn’t understand a fucking word they said. So I told them I would download some pictures and that might answer some of their questions. I guess this is the first time we got a spy drone intact. Free America has shot down hundreds of them with the Stingers but by the time they reached Earth they were in pieces.”

“I thought the old man would be happy to get one intact.”

“He’s real happy. He is getting a hundred man scout force to escort six of Data’s geeks to the ranch down the Javier trail. He ordered me to secure this area of the Sierra Nevada Mountains and wait until they get here. I reckon I better listen to him…this time. Here comes your girlfriend and the pack of dogs. I really like that little mutt and your girlfriend. Both of them seem to be as mean as hell and you my friend, need discipline.”

“She isn’t my girlfriend. I have known her less than a week. She is one of Zak’s brand new scouts out of his last training class. This was her first ride with Janie, Em and the two guys that got killed. I was headed to the twin caves to refresh my poison supplies when I happened upon them when they were ambushed by a bunch of bounty hunters.”

“I’m sorry about that Francis. I thought you were her man by the way she looks at you. That’s too bad. She is one good looking woman, young, smart and it is clear to me that she knows what she is doing. Your dogs seem to like her a lot.”

“Yeah, they do.”

“The dogs seem to me to be the type of dogs that don’t take a shine to many people.”

“No, they don’t.

Lynn returned at a slow pace and the dogs were circling Butch, wagging their tales and looking up at the brunette.

“Scott, you are going to need a lot of pack horses and maybe some wagons. We hit the mother lode in that long one story warehouse. Look at what I found Francis!” she said with a big grin on her face.

She dismounted Butch and lugged a big, brand new saddle bag over to where Francis was on Midnight, hooking the bag on his saddle horn. She opened the flap and Francis peered inside.

“I grabbed as many cans as I could fit in the bag.”

Francis reached down into the bag and retrieved a large can of Alpo dog food. On the side of the can the label read steak. The three dogs were watching Francis’ every move.

“That is not the only thing I found.”

She grabbed another big, brand new saddle bag that did not appear to be as heavy. She opened the flap and removed a box, a large box.

“Milk bone dog biscuits! These are the small ones. The other three boxes in the bag are those large ones, you know, the ones that are six inches wide. I didn’t give the dogs any biscuits right now. It would take Schultz all day to eat one of those big ones.”

Lynn was happy, very happy. She lugged the heavy bag and cans along with the lighter bag of biscuits back to Butch. She threw them over his rump and secured the saddle bags to her saddle. The dogs followed her every step. Once she had the bags secured she reached into her right coat pocket and gave a dog biscuit to Schultz first and then the two Shepherds. The dogs obediently sat down in front of her waiting on their rewards.

“Good boys,” she said.

“Swell,” sighed Francis.

“I don’t know why the bad guys have dog biscuits. I didn’t see any dogs last night other than my, uh, our, uh Francis’ dogs.”

She was looking directly into Francis’ eyes while she made that statement.

“They might have been in the house and gotten killed by all the bullets or died in the fire. What else was in the warehouse?” asked Scott.

“There are tons and tons of food supplies. There are even some big freezers in the back. They must be powered by solar panels somewhere. Your guys got off their horses and started to go crazy looking around. One of them was one of your head scouts. He started to give a bunch of orders when I left.”

“That would be Larry. He is a good man but can get bossy sometime. Now I’m really interested in this other stash house. Are we ready to ride Francis?”

Francis put out his cigar butt on his saddle horn and lit another one of his thin cigars.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot! I have something else for you Francis, from the food warehouse.”

She slowly walked over to Butch and reached in her left front saddle bag. She pulled out a stout large box of the thin cigars Francis liked to smoke. Then she reached in the saddle bag again and pulled out an additional cigar box.

“Here is a box of the cigars that you like Francis! While I was in the warehouse looking around I found these. They are called Backwoods, so I thought I would try one. They are pretty good.”

She gave both boxes to Francis. He had a broad grin on his young face.

“Well, I’ll be damned! I won’t have to think about how many cigars I have left while on the trail, at least for awhile! This is great. Thanks, Lynn!” he exclaimed.

“You are welcome.”

“Don’t you want some of these cigars? I know you like the ones I smoke,” said Francis.

“I have two boxes of each in my bags. Try the Backwoods cigar, I think you will like it knowing you,” she said as she mounted Butch.

Then she reached in her right breast pocket and pulled out a Backwoods cigar. Striking a match on her right thigh she lit it up and took a puff.

“This warehouse had a stockpile of smokes?” asked Scott.

“There is a whole long row of smokes. Your men seemed real happy about finding that.”

“I bet they were. Finding a good smoke is hard to find now days. Can I try one of those Backwoods cigars you were speaking of?” asked Scott.

“Sure. If you like it let me know. You can have one of my boxes.”

She handed him one of the cigars, struck another match and lit his cigar.

“Thanks,” replied Scott.

“Where are we headed to Francis?” asked Lynn.

Francis pointed at the woods at the base of the mountain.

“There is a trail ten yards deep in those trees. We want to head to the left.”

Lynn reined Butch to her left and lightly kicked his flanks. The horse started to walk in the direction Francis had pointed. The two big Shepherds ran ahead of her as the Jack Russell terrier ran along to the right of Butch, starting to yap and whine.

The young woman stuck out her right foot out from her stirrup and the terrier made a wide circle then bolted for Butch, jumping up on the woman’s boot and landing between her legs in her saddle.

“Looks like to me that runt dog has done that before,” said Scott.

“Yeah, he has,” replied Francis.

“Damn, this is a good cigar! I sure wish I had a woman like that to look after me!” exclaimed Scott as he kicked his horse’s flanks and followed Lynn.

As Scott rode by Francis he shook his head, motioned at the departing female scout with Francis’ dogs and grinned. Francis watched as Scott went ahead of him.

“Swell,” he said softly.

He then clicked his tongue and Midnight started to follow.

* * * * *

It took a half hour of slow, steady climbing for the four scouts to come into view of a large oak door fitted into a wall of granite on the side of the mountain.

Francis was in the lead. He dismounted Midnight and watched the two German Shepherds behavior for ten or so seconds.

“They have spotted something. Probably another laser trip alarm four feet off the ground. I don’t think Javier had any blast bombs on this trail, especially if there is equipment behind that door that might be sensitive to such a thing.”

During the trip up the mountain trail the dogs had located two of the devices. They were the same type of warning devices that Francis had used in the field to detect the bounty hunters that he and Lynn had killed earlier in the week. He walked ahead to where all three of the dogs were pointing, with their right front legs raised. Looking into a stand of trees to his right, he disappeared into the thick brush. One minute later he returned carrying a small black device in his right hand.

“That looks like the devices you use Francis,” said Lynn.

“It’s not one of mine but it is close. This is one that is made by Homeland Security, one of those expensive models.”

He took a small instrument out of his left saddle bag and waved it around the black box.

“It doesn’t have a transmitter to any satellite. It has a transmitter to a local receiver. The receiver was probably in Javier’s house or the bunkhouse that we burned.”

“Can you use it?”

“I can if I make some adjustments in its internal parts. I will keep it for now. Remind me when we go down the Javier trail for me to pick up the two I left back by the box canyon we stayed the day you and the girls were ambushed. These things are invaluable out in the wild.”

He mounted Midnight and proceeded up the trail to the door while Lynn, Scott and one of his scouts followed. Soon they were stopped on a large flat area that had been cleared by men to make room for many horses. There were two long hitching posts with rails on each side of the wood door. Apparently, many people would be at this location when it was in use. There were no horses in the area other than their own.

“Do you think there is anyone inside?” asked Lynn.

“I am not sure. I don’t see any security cameras on the mountain or in the trees. See if the door is unlocked,” ordered Francis.

Scott withdrew his pistol and tried the handle to the door.

“It’s locked. I guess we will have to bust it down.”

“We won’t have to do that. Give me a minute,” said Francis.

He walked up to the door and looked at it for a long minute.

“It’s a crude lock. I don’t think we will have to bust it down.”

He reached in his rear pocket and produced what looked like a wallet.

“You have a wallet?” asked Lynn.

“Hell yeah, I have a wallet. Is that so unusual for a man?”

“You carry a wallet with government credits, folding money and plastic cards?”

“Hell yeah! You never know what or where you are going to be out in this wilderness. In these small towns, cash talks and bullshit walks. I even have a library card from the Battle Mountain city library so I can use their wireless net!” replied Francis

He removed what looked like a government identification card out of his worn leather wallet.

“I took this off Javier last night when I hog tied him. I also have his government credit cards. He has more than one hundred million government credits in his operating account when I checked on it last night with my notebook computer. This card is how I confirmed that the scum bag sold us out. Javier never had money like that when I dealt with him before. I already transmitted the financial info to Data and Zak so our connections in Las Vegas can spend the credits for supplies today. Once the government computers update tonight Javier will be broke, plus Homeland Security will know something ain’t quite right, depending on what Zak ordered.  Knowing Zak, he probably ordered something to blow his cover like guns and ammo, stuff like that, but if he ordered medical supplies, food and things like that the feds probably won’t know a thing for a week or two. Depends on how crazy Zak gets.”

“Zak can get pretty crazy sometimes,” said Scott.

“Zak is crazy like a fox! Who do you think gave me this gun!” said Lynn defending Zak.

Francis looked at Scott and Scott looked back but both said nothing.

Francis slipped Javier’s identification card in the narrow space between the heavy wood door and the door jam. He wiggled the rigid plastic card for a moment and the heavy oak door opened. Then he withdrew one of his Colt pistols with his right hand.

“Schultz, spyher,” he said softly.

He opened the heavy door ten inches and the little dog bolted inside into the darkness without any hesitation.

After ten seconds Francis turned and spoke.

“There is no one home.”

“How do you know?” asked Scott standing behind him.

“I know because that little dog would have been yapping his head off for Sarge and Major to help by now. He is probably peeing all over the damn place establishing his territory,” replied Francis.

Francis opened the door and stepped inside. Feeling around on the nearby wall to the door he found what he was looking for. He flipped a light switch.

“Wow! What a setup!” gasped Scott.

Once Francis flipped the switch to turn on the lights a long, deep room in the mountain was revealed. It easily ran three hundred feet into the heart of the granite mountain. On the left and right granite walls were many doors leading to more rooms. On the left side of the long room to the center were ten or fifteen rows of tall metal shelves. Every one of the stout metal structures was loaded with stacks of rifles, pistols, ammunition and boxes.

“Holy shit! This is an armory!  One little switch lighted up this big ass place? I wonder where the power is coming from?” asked Lynn turning off her flashlight.

Sarge and Major were standing beside Francis. Where Schultz was roaming in the large room was anybody’s guess. It was quiet inside, at least at this time.

“Schultz! Kommen heir!” yelled Lynn.

Francis looked at Lynn with surprise on his face. The young female scout was learning the German language well.

“What did you just say?” asked Scott.

“She just told the little mutt to come here,” answered Francis sending a dark look to Lynn..

Immediately the scouts could hear the pitter patter of small feet on the smooth rock floor. Schultz appeared to their right after traversing down an aisle on the right side of the massive room. Before coming to Lynn he stopped and quickly peed on a metal bookcase on the corner of the intersecting aisle then ran to Lynn and sat down beside her.

She looked at Francis with an impish grin on her face.

“Good boy,” she said softly.

Then she bent over and gave him a dog biscuit. She also tossed a dog biscuit to Major and Sarge who were sitting beside Francis. The big dogs deftly caught each biscuit in their massive jaws and effortlessly swallowed them. Both wagged their tails briefly, still sitting patiently. It was by all accounts, an expert toss by the brunette.

Francis sighed and shook his head back and forth.

“I think we found what we were looking for. Look at that wall of computers and monitors on the right of this room in the corner. I am thinking like the Night Ranger. I wonder where they are getting the power for this place?” asked Scott.

“I can hear something, a low purr, which is coming from the back of this room, like a suppressed rumble. Can’t you guys hear that? Look at the Shepherds! They have their ears straight up and both are looking at the back of the room! Something is going on back there!” said Lynn.

Francis, Scott and his scout listened.

“Yeah, I can hear something, that’s for sure. I guess we better check it out for now,” said Scott.

The four scouts and the dog pack walked to the right and looked down the aisle. All four scouts started to get their favorite weapons in their hands to use.

“Good grief! That must be a three hundred feet stroll to the back of this room!  I see a door at the end of this aisle!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Everyone stay on their toes! I don’t think anyone is in here but you never know! Spyher!” said Francis pointing to the door that was far away.

The dog pack didn’t run towards the door. They disappeared into the aisles that paralleled the main aisle disappearing from view. All the scouts now had some type of weapon in their hands and cautiously approached the far away door. When they were fifty yards away the three animals were sitting in front of the door. That indicated to Francis that the mutts had not detected any threats. The area was clear but no one relaxed. Finally all four scouts were standing in front of the metal door along with the dog pack.

“I can definitely hear something on the other side of this door. It sounds like some type of motor running,” said Lynn putting her ear to the metal door.

“Is the door locked? Don’t open it, just see if the handle moves,” said Francis.

Lynn placed her hand on the handle and pressed down. The lever moved a half an inch.

“No, it’s not locked.”

Francis was still for a long moment, thinking.

“I don’t think we need to send Schultz in there. Let me look at the door. We don’t need to be killed by any booby traps,” he said.

Francis pulled a thin metal tube from one of his inner coat pockets.  It was a coiled flexible tube that was three feet in length. Uncoiling the tube he knelt down and managed to slip the slim tube under the door. On his end of the tube was a small box. He bent down and placed the box to his right eye and began to move the tube under the door. After a long minute he stood up, coiled the tube to where it was again a small circle and placed it back in his coat pocket.

“I don’t see any trip wires or any people. All I see are a lot of big black boxes of some type and some lights, like LED lights on a control panel of some type. The door jam on all three sides is clear. At any rate, let’s all move away from this door before I open it.”

Scott, along with his scout and Lynn with the dog pack moved down the aisle and to the right behind a large metal locker. They watched as Francis screwed an eye bolt screw into the header of the door. This took him a couple of minutes to complete. Then he tied a nylon string to the handle, threading it through the eyebolt and looping the string around the leg of nearby tall metal shelf. Unwinding the nylon thread he joined Lynn, Scott, the scout and the dog pack who were sheltered behind the heavy metal locker. He then pulled on the string until the handle of the door was at a perpendicular angle to the concrete floor.

“So far, so good,” he said softly.

Then he searched on a nearby metal shelf and found a small canvas bag filled with ammo. He leaned out from the metal locker and tossed the bag through the air hitting the metal door right below the handle. The door swung open without incident.

“Okay. I think we can go see what it behind that door.”

“Do you do that with every door you don’t know what is on the other side?” asked Scott with a laugh.

“I am still alive aren’t I? You can’t be too safe with doors when you are in the enemy’s house! I have seen booby traps on doors before.”

Francis stepped out from behind his cover and proceeded to the door. He had one of his Colt’s in his hand. As he eased the door open the sound grew louder.

“Holy shit! Our friend Javier has been busy the last year!” he exclaimed.

The room was large. In its interior were four large generators, one of which was running. The generators were ten feet in height and sixteen feet long.  Behind the four generators were twenty large propane tanks, the type of tanks that you see behind semi tractor trailers rolling down a highway.

“What is this Francis?” asked Lynn.

“Those are propane generators, just like the ones you find in the rear of most casinos in Las Vegas to keep those slot machines operating. All those big tanks have propane in them. There is enough propane in here to keep the lights on for years.”

“I can see how they got the tanks in here. How did they get the gas in here?” asked Scott.

“I suspect there must be a buried gas line nearby or maybe they loaded it in by truck. The government could have laid some temporary pipe lines to fill these tanks once they were in place and used line pumps. Javier’s ranch is only a quarter mile away from the main road and he has a driveway to the ranch. Whatever they did, the government spent a lot of money and time to get this set up. Those drones are being controlled from here I think, once they are in the air,” offered Francis.

All four scouts walked around in the big cave looking at what was installed. There was an impressive array of machinery.  Finally they went outside back to the main room closing the door behind them.

“All those tanks said full,” said Lynn.

“So I noticed. They must have tapped a gas line somewhere nearby. We will have to locate the valve and shut that off next,” said Francis.

“Why?” asked Lynn.

“Because they will figure out what happened here last night. When Homeland Security figures that out they will be launching an air attack on this ranch and shutting off the natural gas anyway. If the gas is piped in they could easily sabotage this setup from a distant location with just a few men. With what is here presently the lights can stay on for a long time if the resources are managed.”

“So what are you telling me Francis?” asked Scott.

“Only fire up the generators when you use the spy planes and shut them down when they are not in use. There are probably some solar panels in this area somewhere to conserve energy. The government is crazy about renewable energy, even though it is not that effective.”

Francis was quite for a long moment. Lynn was watching him intently.

“Do you have any geeks riding with you Scott?” he asked.

“I have a few. They keep our notebooks up and running.”

“Good. We need to get moving and get moving quickly. We only have a few hours before Homeland Security reacts to what has happened last night. They probably don’t know what has happened yet but I am sure they will get one of their spy drones in the air to see why no one is responding to their communication attempts or even use one of their satellites to take a look at Javier’s ranch some time today. I am sure you can see those big scorch marks from space and they certainly know where to look.”

“What should we be doing Francis?” asked Lynn.

The young female scout was not bashful about asking questions.

“We need to get organized quickly. Scott, you need to get a bunch of men using their wands and scan those government horses along with their weapons. When everything is clean move those horses deep into the woods. When I say deep I mean deep. Don’t keep them in one big herd. Make it look like several wild herds in the wilderness. Split them up for now, until after tonight. Get the groups six or seven miles away from the Javier ranch. I saw some Stinger tubes and some of those Swedish launchers on some shelves in the next row. Have your men take a few of those with them, get in touch and stay in touch with Data. He will let you know if something is coming this way tonight. Those shoulder fired missiles may come in handy.”

“Danny, go get my forward scouts and have them come here right now! Move it!” ordered Scott.

The rugged looking scout walked briskly out of the mountain hangar.

“What else?” asked Scott.

“Get your men to move those food supplies out into the woods. Scan those pallets for government transmitters. Once those are clear move them. I saw several all terrain tractors equipped with forks in the rear of the hangar under the attached shelter. Use those machines to move as much food supplies as possible away from the one story supply warehouse.  I am sure if the military or Homeland Security air forces show up the government will target that building, maybe this entire valley. You can bet they know about that building and the last thing they want to do is feed us. Get in touch with Data and find out how to remove the wings to the drones so they can be moved into the woods. Check those drones for benign transmitters and move them out somewhere. Then cut down some branches and place them under each of the canvas tarps that were over the drones in the shape of a plane so the government will believe that they are still there. Let the government blow up the tree branches.”

“I see where you are going with this! The old fake er roo!” exclaimed Scott.

“Yes. They will blow up the canvas and the branches along with the metal hangar some time today or tonight. We need to keep those drones if we can. So we need to get moving.”

“Why don’t we use the Stingers and just shoot them down before they get here?” asked Lynn.

“Because the government will be using drones equipped with Hellfire missiles. Some of their drones are capable of carrying two of those missiles. Those missiles have a range of eight thousand meters and they pack a hell of punch. They will be too far away for us to shoot down unless we know when and where they are coming from,” answered Francis.

“How far away is that?” asked Lynn.

“That is five miles. The second they get in range they will fire those missiles at the Javier ranch. Then they will have the drones get closer to check on the damage they have done. That is when we will shoot them down with those Swedish missiles or the Stingers, after they get close and transmit photos of the destruction back to Nellis Air Force Base.. Once we do that I don’t think the government will be sending any of their expensive war planes with a pilot to check things out. Then we have some breathing room.”

“What about this mountain?” asked Scott.

“I have been thinking about that and I am not sure. I don’t think they know about this room or the mountain, knowing Javier. He probably reported that his weapons stash was in that long wood warehouse in the woods with the food and the computer setup to fly the drones is in the metal hangar. Javier didn’t trust the government either, so I don’t think he would let them know about his weapons stash but we can’t depend on that.”

“I don’t know about that Francis! Look above the wood door!”

Francis and Scott turned to look above the stout oak door. Mounted above the door was a large metal plate. It looked heavy.

“That looks like a blast door!” said Scott.

“Yeah, it does! It didn’t notice it before,” said Francis.

“Why would Javier have a door like that?” asked Lynn.

Francis looked at Scott uneasily.

“He might have been worried that some one might rat fink on him,” said Scott.

“That could be. That thing is a good eighteen inches thick. I was gonna’ leave at noon today but I guess I will stick around to see what happens today or tonight. Let’s get some people in this cave to figure out how to operate the door. This will be as good a place as any to spend the day. Whatever happens, we need to move quickly,” said Francis.

“Will that blast door stop one of those missiles?” asked Lynn.

“It sure looks like it. Hopefully they will use their resources to destroy the spy planes once they see the ranch has been burned to the ground. They sure as hell don’t want us to get our hands on one of those planes, I would think,” said Francis.

The three scouts exited the newly discovered armory. Scott mounted his horse and took off down the trail. Francis remained standing next to Lynn.

“What are you doing Francis? We need to go down to the hangar and get Betty, Em and Janie!” she exclaimed.

“We have plenty of time for now. I saw a rack of guns on the wall just like the Big X. I also saw a bin full of the drums like you have plus the ammo to go with them. While Scott and his men are busy we need to get what we need. I like my AK47 but I think Em and Janie wouldn’t mind carrying a rifle like you carry. Plus I wouldn’t mind having a couple of those Swedish missile launchers. Unlike Stingers which you can use only once, those weapons can be used over and over again if you have the missiles.”

“Francis! That is a lot of weight! Just for you alone would be too much weight for Betty!”

“I know young lady, I know! You stay here with the dog pack and snoop around the armory. You know what to get.  I will be back with Janie and Em! I saw something you didn’t see Lynn!”

Lynn looked at Francis with a perplexing look on her face.

“What?” she demanded.

Francis mounted Midnight.

“I saw six big mules in the rear corral of the Javier ranch mixed in with all those horses. I figured maybe you, Em and Janie might have figured it out by now that that is the way to travel and fight in these badlands. You want a mule or not?” he asked with a grin.

Lynn stood for a moment letting what Francis just said sink into her head. All three dogs were wagging their tales as if they knew what Francis had just said.

“Are you asking me to ride with you?” she asked.

“Well, maybe. You never know but even if we don’t ride together your life will be easier with a good pack mule. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

“Yeah, it has been easier. I don’t have three dogs to take care of though.”

“You don’t?” asked Francis with a grin on his face.

She looked at the three mutts who had their ears perked straight up and were watching her intently. It looked to her like they could understand everything Francis and her were discussing.

Finally, she replied.

“I can’t speak for Janie or Em but hell yes, go ahead and grab me a mule,” she said softly.

Francis spurred Midnight and took off down the trail.  The two Shepherds and the Jack Russell terrier remained by her side.

As she turned to open the heavy oak door to return to the armory she spoke to the dog pack.

“Maybe you guys can clear this up. Did he just ask me to ride with him?”

All three of the animals were happily wagging their tales as if they knew something. The small terrier yapped twice and then jumped up into her arms without her prompting him. She carried the small dog back inside the cavern armory.

* * * * *

Chapter Nine

Air Attack

It was getting close to four o’clock in the afternoon. Francis was sitting at a long table in Javier’s armory watching several monitors that were active and mounted on the wall. In front of him was a keyboard on which he was typing on intermittently. Lynn was sitting beside him on his right watching. Scott and several of his computer geeks were sitting on his left. Some of the geeks had keyboards sitting in front of them.

“I didn’t know that you were so computer literate Francis. None of my scouts are familiar with this operating system,” said Scott.

“It is Linux. It is easy to learn and use. Four of the scouts I have met today will pick up on it easily after a day or two. They are pretty sharp. I am just showing them the way for now. Data said those four spy drones dispatched by Homeland Security will be arriving in twenty more minutes. Are your scouts in position to the south?”

“They left three hours ago when Data sent his warning. The terrain is fairly rough to the south. They should be four or five miles south of our location by now, maybe a little further.”

“That will have to do. Send them a message on their notebooks to get ready.”

“Can you tell how many missiles are on the drones?” asked Lynn.

“No. The best we can do is figure each spy drone is carrying two missiles. This valley will be on fire in twenty more minutes, maybe sooner than that.”

“We got all the supplies out in the woods away from here along with the eleven drones. We covered up everything with brush using canvas tarps and everyone is spread out,” said Scott.

“And the decoys are in place?” asked Francis.

“The decoys are in place,” answered Scott.

“It should be over with soon. Maybe my squadron and I will have some time to head to the base before nightfall. Is everything ready Lynn?” asked Francis.

“The two mules are packed and ready to go. Janie and Em are going to stay here for now with Scott and his men.”

“I am going to send twenty of my scouts with you Francis until you meet up with Ringo and the one hundred scout escort Zak sent with the six geeks coming here. From there you will be on your own with Javier, his two goons along with Donnie and Chris’s bodies. Are you sure you don’t want to just kill Javier and his two goons? It will make for an easier ride.”

“No. We have already discussed this. Lynn and I along with the pack will be fine Scott. There on the screen! There are the four drones!”

Scott and Lynn watched the display for several seconds.

“They are moving slow,” said Scott.

“The planes are driven by a propeller. They are high in the air and with the equipment they carry they don’t have to move fast. Free America doesn’t have any air power but I am familiar with this type of aircraft. After the drones fire their missiles they will drop down in altitude to see what damage they have done.”

“Hopefully that is about to change. We inventoried two hundred of those Hellfire missiles in this cave.”

“If you and the geeks can figure out how to put those droids into service, doing that is going to help in the struggle. Lynn, get over to the blast door and push the button to shut it. Those four drones will be in position in a few more minutes and like I told you before, they will fire those missiles the second they are in range.”

Lynn walked over to the entrance and pushed a black button to the left of the oak door. Immediately the large heavy steel door lowered into place and clicked shut.

She then walked back to where Francis was sitting and sat back down in her chair. She turned and grinned at Major, Sarge and Schultz who were sitting in one of the long aisles guarding Midnight, Betty and the new mule, Cleopatra. There were several other horses in the large cavernous room.

“There is going to be some serious cleaning to be done in this place later scooping up all the horse shit!” exclaimed Lynn.

“I would rather be doing that than dragging a dead horse out of here,” said Scott.

Francis used his mouse and the six monitors on the top row came to life.

“Those are our cameras outside. We should be able to see what happens if the cameras survive the blast. I hope you have all the men and animals out of this valley Scott. Once those drones get through there will be nothing but scorched black land.”

“Everyone is five or six miles away hidden in the forest and the mountains. We didn’t have the time to bury my scouts so we cut them down, bagged them and moved their bodies. We even debugged and moved the machines along with the diesel and small propane tanks out in the woods. The only thing that will be destroyed is the empty hangar and those damn gallows. I just wish Javier and his buds were in that metal building.”

“No. I need to take them to Doc. We may be here until well after dark. It will depend on how long the forests on the sides of the mountains will burn. The government and their high altitude satellites won’t be able to see a thing until tomorrow morning… maybe. There is gonna’ be a hell of a lot of smoke.”

Everyone watched the monitors for several more minutes. Finally, one of Scott’s computer geeks spoke.

“Missiles away Francis!” he said loudly.

Francis watched on the monitor directly in front of him and the government computer he was using tracked the missiles with a thin white line.

Ten seconds passed. Francis finally spoke.

“Here we go. Brace yourselves.”

Even with the heavy blast door and being buried in the interior of a big granite mountain the sound was loud. The ground inside the mountain vibrated slightly.

Lynn watched all six of the surveillance monitors. On screen all she could see was a massive ball of orange flames and fire. The image on the six screens lasted for fifteen seconds. At that point in time two of the screens turned to white fizz on the screen.

“I think those cameras were mounted lower on this mountain,” said Francis.

On the four remaining screens all that could be seen was fire and white smoke. Sometimes the smoke would turn black.

“The drones are making their approach to photograph their target. Tell your men to fire at will Scott.”

Scott had his notebook computer sitting on the desk in front of him. He typed quickly which surprised Lynn. Scott’s big hands dwarfed the small keyboard.

Francis turned his attention to the monitor that was tracking the four drones flying high overhead. Soon four more white trails appeared on the monitor.

“Whatever your scouts fired they have a lock on the drones. It will be over soon,” said Francis.

The scouts watched as one by one the white trails were removed from the computer monitor.

Scott has a big grin on his face.

“We used those Swedish missiles instead of the Stingers to see how they worked. Looks to me like they worked pretty well!” he said happily.

“They sure did! Plus you can use them again. There are plenty of supplemental missiles for those launchers here in this armory. More importantly, I don’t think Homeland Security or any government agency knows about this place. If they did, one of those missiles would have been targeted on that blast door. Not one of those missiles came close.”

“What are you saying?” asked Scott.

“This place would make a hell of a base of operations if you handled it correctly. Maybe you could start using those drones against their makers and who knows? Data’s geeks are pretty good at making electronics work. Maybe we could make our own drones but if you can get those eleven active that should help.”

“I was thinking about that. Do you think it is safe to take a peek outside?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not. Lynn, would you raise the blast door please?”

Lynn arose from her chair and walked over to the control panel beside the blast door. She pushed a green button and the heavy door moved high overhead. Francis walked over to the oak door and felt its surface.

“At least it’s not hot. Let’s open it up and step outside.”

As Francis cautiously opened the door the small dog pushed his way outside. Instantly he turned and retreated back into the cavern.

Francis froze the position of the oak door. Lynn laughed.

“It must not be too good out there!”

Francis opened the door a little wider and stuck his head out. Then he stepped outside. Lynn quickly followed. Soon everyone was standing in the open area in front of Javier’s armory, including the dogs.

In front of them across the valley was a sea of fire and smoke.

“Holy shit!” said Lynn.

“I hope your men moved far enough away Scott!” said Francis.

“I think we are okay. We moved everything two ridges over to the north. That is where the wind is blowing from, plus there is a healthy mountain stream flowing in the shallow valley. We secured two portable water pumps from Javier’s equipment shed. I think I will get on my notebook and notify my guys to get those pumps working and get the woods in that area soaking wet. The wind ain’t blowing that way but good Lord that is one hell of a fire raging.”

He disappeared back inside the armory.

Lynn stood next to Francis and the three dogs stood behind them, occasionally peeking around their legs.

“I have never seen anything like this Francis! The fire is so large and it is instantaneous! How long will it last?”

Francis looked across Javier’s valley. The raging inferno was a good two miles wide and five miles long.

“It’s gonna’ last a long time baby. It doesn’t look like any rain is going to fall in the next few days. The fire is heading down the Javier trail to the east, from where we came. That trail doesn’t bend to the south for twenty miles. The way the wind is blowing is in that direction. We will be here for a day or two at least, probably.”

“What about Donnie and Chris’s bodies? They must be decaying pretty badly by now.”

“I was thinking about that. Let’s go talk to Scott.”

Both Scouts went back to the computer console where Scott was issuing orders. After three minutes he quit typing and looked up.

“It looks like we are in good shape. The fires are moving away from where we stashed the drones and all the food along with the horses. My boys located a small box canyon to the south towards California. It is five acres in size, kind of small, but it will do. Plus there is a stream nearby. We are going to drive the horses there for tonight. Later, I am going to move the food into this cavern. It will be tight but we will make room. Zak said his men had just got on the Javier trail running thirty miles south of the Secondary Base and they could see the smoke rising into the atmosphere. That is a good two hundred and fifty miles away, maybe farther.”

“That’s about right. It wouldn’t surprise me if you could see the smoke in Las Vegas from the Stratosphere, if the Stratosphere was still there. But we know about that, right Scott?”

“What do you mean by that Francis?” asked Lynn.

“Scott and the old man, along with Little and Big Jimbo were the only people from Free America to see the Stratosphere fall the night it fell.”

“Really? I read about that when I was in FEMA Camp 37! I bet it was exciting!” exclaimed Lynn.

“It took my breath away. Zak was singing Viva Las Vegas on a short wave radio along with Elvis Pressley. Amanda was chastising him for being crazy.”

“The Pale Rider was there with you? I idolize the Pale Rider! I didn’t know she was there with you that night. I thought she got away earlier!”

“It’s a long story but that didn’t happen. Amanda and I, along with the old man were the last to leave. Everyone else left us. When she turned to yell at Zak for acting crazy the Strat fell. Only me and the old man saw it fall. Little and Big Jimbo said they saw it fall but they were a good ways away. Amanda is still pissed off about that,” laughed Scott.

Lynn laughed.

“Zak! Oh my God! You can’t do nothing but love that old man.”

“I want to discuss something with you Scott. I still plan on taking Javier and his two goons to Doc but what about Donnie and Chris? Those body bags ain’t gonna’ contain the smell for the next seven or eight days,” said Francis.

“No, they won’t. Why don’t you bury them here on this ranch once the fires die out? That is what I plan to do with my twenty scouts, if I can find the other eight. Why don’t we find a good place to plant them in the ground? We have the heavy equipment to do that right now. At the end of the war maybe we can come back and move them to a more appropriate place, like the graveyard in the Valley of Freedom. Right now today, things are complicated. Maybe in the future they won’t be. You and Lynn won’t find it pleasing to be easing across Nevada with two dead bodies that are stinking up the place. Predators will be attracted to the smell plus it will be easy to follow you. The smell would be inconvenient.”

Francis looked at Lynn and she nodded her head.

“I think that is the plan for now. When the fires die down, I have one request,” said the Night Ranger.

“What’s that my friend?” said Scott.

“Let’s bury everyone where the gallows stood. Later, if any one of us survives this war we can locate the bodies.”

“That is a great idea. We all three know exactly where that spot is.”

All three turned their heads to gaze at what remained of the stout gallows. All that was left were eight stout wooden stubs protruding out of the desert floor. All eight of the posts which were at the most three feet in height were on fire, like everything else in the valley.

“We may as well move back inside the armory where the air is clean and look around some more. We will stay here for the night. I will get my orders out to my men,” said Scott.

The three scouts moved back inside and shut the oak door to hunker down for the night in the safe confines of the mountain armory.

* * * * *

Lynn awoke with a start in the morning. Something or someone was tugging on her sleeping bag. Turning her head and looking to her feet she saw a big brown furry head pulling on the edge of her sleeping roll.

“Major! Enden!” she said.

The big Shepherd instantly released the sleeping bag and then moved to her face, wagging his large bushy tail and trying to give her a big sloppy kiss. Francis was standing behind the animal with a grin on face.

“He’s getting pretty good at waking people up don’t you think?”

Lynn sat up in her sleeping bag.

“Yes he is. What time is it?”

“It is now five o’clock in the morning. I woke you up to see if you were planning on staying here with Scott and his men or riding back to the Secondary Base. Have you used your notebook computer and asked Zak what to do?”

“No, I haven’t. The last time I did that I about got killed.”

“Well that wasn’t Zak’s fault! You should get on the net and get in touch with him now, ask him what he wants you to do next. He may want you to ride with Scott and his men in California and western Nevada.”

“When are you leaving?”

“I was planning on heading out of here as soon as the sun is up over the eastern horizon. I got up an hour ago, packed Betty, got more ammo and fed the animals. I fed Butch for you and cleaned up the horse shit in the armory.”

“Did you let Zak know?” she asked with a frown on her face.

“No. I never call Zak. He is the one who calls me.”

“How long has that been going on?” she asked as she stood and began to roll up her bedroll. She bent over and hugged Major.

“That has been going on ever since I left the base.”

“Then why should I be required to give him a call?”

Francis looked at the young woman and let a slight smile creep across his face.

“You do what you want. I just have one question. When Zak does call you, do you do what he asks?”

“He has never called me, specifically.”

“I see.”

“When he calls you, do you do what he asks you to do?” she asked.

“Always. Sometimes not right away but it gets done. It depends on the gravity of the situation.”

“Has he asked you to ride with, say, Scott and his men?”

“He knows better than that. I operate alone, well, except for the pack.”

Lynn knew she had the Reaper with that question.

“So…he asked you to follow me, Janie, Em and the two new scouts who got killed?”

Francis hesitated to answer, at first.

“Yes. He knew I was going this way to my poison cave so he asked me to hang back and watch over you five scouts. You guys were in a big hurry, which in my opinion is a big mistake, and left me, Betty, and the dog pack. The result was, your group rode right into an ambush. You, Em and Janie were lucky you weren’t killed,” he answered softly.

Lynn confirmed at that moment what she had thought the day Francis showed up on the trail because of her. She dropped her bedroll, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Francis laying her head on his shoulder. She was crying softly, but not much.

“I have been thanking the Lord everyday for that,” she said.

Then she stepped back and picked her bedroll off the floor. Turning, she walked away not saying a word. The large brown Shepherd looked at Francis with a puzzled look on his face, hesitated for a moment, then trotted after Lynn.

Lynn walked down the armory aisle to Butch and fastened her bedroll to her saddle. Then she took her notebook computer out of her left saddle bag and began to use it.

Five minutes later she joined Francis who was sitting at the computer station in the armory. She sat down beside him.

“Well? What did Zak say?”

“I was surprised he was up so early. He said we did good, you, me and Janie here at Javier’s ranch. He looked tired but he seemed happy.”

“Did you ask him what he wanted you to do next?”

“Yes I did. He suggested that maybe I should ride with Scott and his men for the time being.”

“And?”

“I told him I didn’t think that would be convenient for Scott because I now had a mule.”

“What did he do when you said that?” asked Francis with a grin.

“He went ballistic on me, turned red faced and ranted for a good minute, jumping up and yelling at his computer screen. He was ranting, telling me that you were a bad influence on my life and that he should have never ordered you to shadow me, Janie, Em and the two boys who got killed.”

Francis laughed.

“After a minute he finally sat back down at his notebook computer.”

“What happened then?”

“He asked me when and where was I was planning on finding some dogs.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I already had three. That really set him off”

Francis said nothing. Finally after ten seconds looking into Lynn’s brown eyes he spoke.

“Those are my dogs.”

“I know. But I thought we could share them for a little while longer. I told Zak I was going with you at least to the box canyon for now.”

“The box canyon? Why the box canyon?”

“Zak said for us to meet Doc and his men at the box canyon we stayed in the other night. He told me to tell you that Doc has some digital scales and that there was no need for you to come all the way to the Secondary Base with Javier. Janie and Em are going also. Janie had a mule packed last night. She complimented you and said you know how to travel. She also told me that her and Em are going to look for some dogs when they get the chance. She and Em want two German Shepherds and a Jack Russell terrier.”

“She does does she? It seems everyone asked everyone else about everything except me.”

Lynn had a shattered look on her face.

“I am asking. May we please ride with you and the pack at least to the box canyon? Please!”

Francis thought for a long moment.

“Sure. I don’t see why not. I enjoy having your company. I think the guys do too.”

Lynn jumped from her chair and hugged Francis for a long moment.

“I will tell Janie and Em! May we freshen up before we set out?”

“Sure. I ain’t in any hurry. I ain’t never in any hurry. Where are Javier and his two buddies?”

“Janie and Em watched them last night along with Scott’s men in the woods somewhere. They are bringing them to the armory right now. They want a Big X rifle like I carry and they want to look around to see what weapons are on the racks. Thank you Francis! I really appreciate you saying yes!”

Then she hugged him again and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then she went to the armory bathroom. Francis turned to the computer console and set up his notebook to contact Zak.

“Swell,” he sighed.

Scott opened the oak door and sauntered inside. He sat down next to Francis.

“Are they going to ride with you?”

“So it seems.”

“I tried to talk all three of them into riding with me. I could use some fighters like them. I have seen Em and Janie in action before. They are two bad ass scouts. They both spoke highly of the Night Ranger. Janie said she must have killed a hundred men with that fancy gun of hers and that’s not counting the ones in the bunkhouse she poisoned. Not a bad first time outing for a new scout. She reminds of someone I know well, also a female scout.”

“She did real well. She executed our plan to perfection and even was involved with some hand to hand combat. The brown Shepherd bailed her out and she continued to fight. That took concentration and guts, I will say that.”

“Really? I didn’t know about that. So what are you going to do Francis?”

“They can ride with me…to the box canyon. Then we will see. I still have to get to the twin caves to get supplies. Then I plan on riding a little farther north. That is after I go back to the box canyon to meet up with Doc and his men.”

“Still working on FEMA Camp 43?”

“Yep.”

“That is one heavily fortified FEMA camp out in the middle of nowhere. Even with one thousand men I wouldn’t make such an attempt to bring it down like we did on FEMA camp 37. I would lose too many men.”

“I wouldn’t either if I were you.”

“Then why are you spending the time? If I think I can’t do it what makes you think you can do it?”

“That’s because I don’t have nine hundred and ninety nine men riding with me Scott. I have three bad ass dogs.”

Scott laughed.

“Yes you do! And now you have three bad ass women!”

Francis had a look of surprise on his face.

“You know, I never thought of it like that until now.”

“You should. With a combination like that you never know.”

“No, you never know about anything in this country any more.”

* * * * *

Chapter Ten

Buried Alive

Lynn eased Butch down the mountain trail to where the bunkhouse ruins were still sending up columns of thin strands of white smoke into the air. Following behind her were Scott and Francis riding Midnight. Betty, the mule, and the dog pack were following behind. Near the bunkhouse ruins a backhoe was in use digging a long, deep ditch. Watching the action were Emily, Jane and numerous scouts standing on the ground and sitting on horses. No one was smiling.

Next to Jane were two horses with a body bag slung across each saddle. The body bags contained the bodies of Donnie and Chris. Scott’s men had retrieved the sixty horses from the temporary rope corral during the night along with Donnie and Chris’ bodies.

Lynn stopped Butch next to her two friends but said nothing. Francis stopped Midnight in front of the three ladies while Scott continued to move to speak with the man operating the backhoe.

“Good morning ladies. It looks like nice riding weather today although it could be warmer,”  Francis said making small talk.

On the ground between the four scouts and the long hole in the ground were twenty body bags.

“They found the remaining eight scouts last night in the woods about a half a mile away. All eight had been shot in the back of the head,” said Jane.

Lynn turned to look at Javier and his two associates who were sitting on horses ten feet behind the two female scouts. Their hands were bound behind their backs, their mouths were gagged and their legs were bound to the saddle so they wouldn’t fall off their horses.

Two of the three men started to struggle. Both were biting their gags and moving their jaws attempting to remove the cotton rag. One of them managed to cause the gag to fall around his neck and started to yell obscenities at the scouts. Lynn moved her right hand to her right pistol holster.

“Uh uh, Lynn. Francis wants them alive,” said Emily.

Francis was intently watching the backhoe when he heard the profanity spewing from the Hussein Guard’s mouth over the motor of the digging machine.  He spurred his horse and moved to where he was next to Scott.  Lynn could see him speaking with Scott but could not hear because of the rumble from the engine on the backhoe. For the next ten minutes he stayed next to Scott while the scouts let the Hussein Guard commander continue his tirade. Lynn didn’t know what was going on but she let a tight grin creep across her face when she saw the backhoe operator start to dig a second hole. She said nothing.

Then Francis returned, dismounted Midnight and moved to stand next to Lynn.

“Would you mind holding Midnight’s reins for a couple of minutes for me?” he asked.

“It will be my pleasure.”

He then walked the ten feet that separated the scouts from the prisoners. He took the reins of the horses the two Hussein Guard commanders were sitting on and slowly led the two horses to the small hole in the ground that was at the end of the long hole while the prisoner continued to utter profanity in English at the scouts.

Once Francis was properly located he reached to the left side of his body and produced one of the two sharp knives he carried. He cut the rope bonds that were holding the men on their horses and left the bonds restraining their hands along with their arms in place. He then reached up behind the men’s backs and pulled them to the ground. Each of the men landed on one side of their body, hitting the ground hard. The Hussein Guard commander without the gag temporarily stopped the profanity and began to moan loudly.

Scott, his scouts and the three female scouts were watching. The dog pack was sitting calmly next to Midnight, also watching.

“What is he up to?” asked Jane.

“Just watch Janie. I think I know what he is up to. This should be good,” answered Lynn.

Everyone watched as Francis grabbed two short pieces of rope from the prisoners’ removed bonds and tightly bound each of the men’s feet together. Then he grabbed both Hussein Guards by the collars of their black government uniforms and dragged them next to the second hole that had been dug. He lined up both men parallel to the deep hole and stood over them a long time, saying something to both men. Then the young scout reached down and removed the second guard’s gag. No one could hear what Francis had said because of the loud backhoe motor.  Francis finally kicked both men into the deep hole. From the bottom of the deep pit the scouts could clearly hear the commander using profanity once again and the second guard screaming his head off.

“I think Francis is pissed,” whispered Janie.

“He’s madder than that,” said Lynn softly.

Francis then walked over to the backhoe operator.

“Get out!” he ordered, motioning with his right hand.

The operator scrambled out of the machine. Francis climbed in and started to work the levers, moving the large bucket in the air towards the mountain of freshly dug dirt. When Francis dumped the first bucket full of Nevada dirt into the deep pit, the profanity turned to screams of terror. Five minutes later he was smoothing the ground where the hole once existed. Then he climbed out, thanked the backhoe operator and walked back over to mount Midnight.

Lynn looked around to see every scout, either on the ground, or their horse, watching Francis. No one was laughing.

“Feeling better?” asked Lynn while handing him the reins to Midnight when he returned.

“Much better. Is everyone ready to ride?” asked Francis.

“What did you say to those creeps?” asked Jane.

Francis took a thin cigar out of his vest pocket and lit it. He took a deep breath and blew a perfect smoke ring.

“I told those fuckers to say hi to Allah for me and that they would have to share the seventy two virgins because this is Nevada and virgins are hard to come by.”

Jane and Emily laughed. Lynn just smiled and shook her head.

Scott rode up to the four scouts. He shook each of their hands.

“That was a good show Francis! I think you made a smart move burying those shit heads…alive! Watching three guys who would love to get loose and try to kill you is a worry you don’t need. You guys stay in touch and stay alert on the trail. Hopefully we will see each other at the next FEMA Camp 37 bonfire.”

“That may be true. They are rebuilding it…again,” said Jane.

“They are?” asked Lynn.

“You need to start getting on line with Zak more often young lady. I have to get running ladies and gentleman. I have a lot to do today,” said Scott.

He waved and then took off in the direction of the armory while Francis and his squad headed down the Javier trail to the east.

“Well girls, with this early start and the Javier trail being relatively clear we might make the box canyon just as its getting dark. I just don’t know what the pace will be traveling with three mules, three ladies and three dogs,” said Francis.

“I ain’t in no hurry, are you Janie?” said Lynn, teasing Francis.

“Nope. Are you in any hurry Em?”

“Never, Justine strikes me as the type of mule that never gets in a hurry.”

“Who is Justine?” asked Francis turning around in his saddle.

“Justine is the name of this mule Francis! At least, that is the name on her halter. I guess I should thank old Javier for my mule sometime today,” replied Emily.

“Me too!” exclaimed Lynn.

“And, pray tell, what is the name of your mule?” asked Francis.

“Cleopatra, Cleo for short. That is the name that was on her halter. She is a pretty mule, like Betty!”

“Swell,” sighed Francis.

Lynn moved to where she was directly behind Javier’s horse and slapped the animal on its rump with her reins. The horse quickly trotted ahead of the group by twenty yards.

“Major, herde!” she ordered pointing at Javier and his horse.

“Good idea,” said Francis.

“Why?” asked Jane.

“Let that asshole ride point for us. If someone is out there waiting to take a pot shot at us they will get him. That will give us a chance to make the box canyon by nightfall possibly but if we don’t make it by then, we don’t make it by then,” said Lynn.

She was in no hurry. She was riding with her man, her best friends in life and the pack. She had learned an important lesson in life at a young age since leaving the Secondary Base a week ago. That it was important to try to plan for the future but it was more important to live for the moment. She felt like she was luckiest girl in the world this morning.

* * * * *

The move of making Javier ride point had proved to be the right move. It was just starting to get dark in the mountains and the group was less than a mile away from the box canyon. They had not bothered to stop for lunch on the way, only to feed and water the horses, the mules and of course, the pack. It had been a leisurely pace and most importantly uneventful. They had made good time.

The only surprise during the ride was discovering a pile of ten bodies dressed in Hussein Guard uniforms along the way. The dogs had smelled the bodies long before the scouts discovered them hidden off the trail. Scott’s men had gone ahead and were clearing the way for them and Doc’s men who were on the way. Even so, Francis and his three dogs never let their guard down. Often he would leave to ride ahead for fifteen minutes and then come riding up from behind them. Francis knew the mountain trails in this part of Nevada well. The dog pack never left the three women and the mules, always staying between them and Javier at the point. Major constantly kept Javier’s poor horse on the move.

Major had stopped Javier’s horse at the entrance to the box canyon. The group of scouts and their animals stopped behind him.

“I know the drill,” said Lynn pulling her snake charmer from one of rifle holsters attached to her saddle. She also pulled out a strong flashlight.

She pointed at the three dogs that were circling Francis and Midnight.

“You guys, bleib!” she commanded.

Then she and Butch entered the box canyon at a walk while the dog pack stayed by Francis and his horse, just as Lynn commanded.

“I must say Lynn has seemed to master the German language very quickly,” said Emily.

“You better believe it. I have seen her studying on her notebook every night since I have known her. She was studying before she met you and the pack, Francis,” added Jane.

“Is that right? How long ago was that?”

“I would say around six months ago at least,” she replied.

“Hmm, that is interesting. I met her when she first arrived at the Secondary Base when she was freed from FEMA Camp 37.  We met that day briefly, but I do remember the occasion. She didn’t know what she was going to do with her life and she was scared. How long ago has that been…about a year now?

“That has been at least a year now. I didn’t know that! I think she has figured out what she wanted to do a long time ago!” exclaimed Jane.

The three scouts heard four snake charmer blasts echoing off the walls of the box canyon.

“Yeah, I think she has figured out what she wants to do with her life, that’s for sure,” said Francis.

Two minutes later she returned riding Butch and in each of her hands she had two large dead rattlesnakes by their tales. She rode over to the edge of the Javier trail and flung them far into the boulders.

“Our little cranny is safe for now. If we go down to the pond while it is dark we better wear our shields. At this time of year with this warmer weather during the day the desert is crawling with those critters trying to find some place to stay at night instead of hunting for food. Even though Doc is on his way I don’t want to be waiting for him to arrive to treat a snakebite wound.”

“We can lay our friend Javier down on the ground at the entrance to the cranny. If there are any curious critters on the ground tonight I am sure he will let us know right away,” said Jane.

Her comment caused all four scouts to laugh while Javier had fear written all over his face. He knew that would be exactly what the scouts would do tonight.

The pack moved into the box canyon and their safe harbor to the left of the entrance. After dismounting Lynn started to go into action.

“Francis, why don’t you and Janie set up the camp for tonight and I will put my shields on and get us some firewood out of the trees growing by the pond along with some fresh water for our animals. Em, you just sit down and relax for now or if you are feeling well enough, I will get your notebook computer and you can check in with Zak. You run a computer better than anybody. Major, Sarge, Schultz! Bleib! You guys stay here for now until I come back and check for more rattlesnakes. I will be right back!”

Lynn retrieved her snake shields from Cleopatra and put them on. She then snatched her snake charmer off of Butch’s saddle, a water bucket and flashlight. She then went to Emily’s horse and retrieved her notebook. She handed Emily her computer and then walked into the dark.

“Good lord! I am worn out from that long ride and she is like the energizer bunny! That girl is a hard worker,” said Emily.

“She always works hard. I rode with her several times while she was training and she always pulled more than her share of the chores when we stopped to camp. Plus, she never complained like some of those whiny butt male scouts in training,” added Jane.

“I just ain’t figured out who she likes more right now, the dogs or Francis,” said Emily.

Francis grinned while he removed two camping tents from Betty and Justine.

“She is a hard worker and a good scout. She knows how to fight too. Plus she is a pretty girl. She should make a man feel lucky one of these days,” said Francis.

Jane and Emily giggled.

“She sure will. You aren’t interested are you Francis?”

“Who? Me?”

“Who? Me? Listen to him Janie,” laughed Emily.

“Men! They are so shallow most times!’

Francis and Jane continued to work at setting up the camp. Francis had a small propane lantern that he carried on Betty that helped throw some light in the camp area.

Five minutes had passed when Lynn returned with the snake charmer under her left arm, her left arm holding a large stack of firewood and her flashlight in her hand. In her right hand was a bucket of fresh water.

“We need to keep the animals in this cranny tonight. I saw a few rattlers crawling away from me when I walked down to the pond.”

She placed the bucket in front of Midnight and he immediately started to drink. She dumped the firewood on the same spot where they had built a fire a few nights ago. It took her less than two minutes to get the fire started. Then she retrieved the water bucket, her flashlight and snake charmer.

“I will get some more water and firewood. I will be right back.”

As she walked by Javier, who was lying on the ground on his back, she kicked him in his legs.

“Lie against the wall for now and quit blocking the path.”

Javier started to move his body like a worm, moving to the wall.

Fifteen minutes and seven trips later by Lynn the animals were watered and fed. The tents were set up and the campfire was burning.

Jane was cooking supper for the night when Lynn finally sat down on a boulder near the fire. Even though it was cool she was sweating.  Emily was sitting beside Lynn with her computer and Francis was helping Jane whenever she needed help. He reached in his vest pocket and handed a cigar to Lynn.

“It’s one of those Backwoods cigars. They are pretty good.”

Lynn took the cigar from his hand. As she looked for a match in her coat pocket Francis produced a Bic lighter and flicked it, holding the flame in front of her face.

Lynn lit her cigar.

“Why thank you Francis. That’s very gentle…scoutly of you.”

All three female scouts laughed.

“You need to relax and enjoy the night,” he said.

Then he stood up, grabbed a flashlight and headed for the pond. He also grabbed the water bucket.

“I will get the water and firewood.”

As he disappeared into the dark the Jack Russell terrier jumped up and followed him. At first Lynn was going to give Schultz the command to stay but said nothing.

“You are learning girl. Now I think he definitely likes you. I have never had any damn male scout light one of my cigarettes for me except Zak,” said Jane.

“Me too! I noticed Francis lighting that cigar. You play your cards right girlfriend and maybe you might find a good partner to ride with, Lynn.”

“I don’t know girls. I will have to think about it.”

All three of the women had a good laugh over that comment.

Soon Francis returned with a large stack of wood for the fire. After dumping the wood a few feet from the campfire he sat down next to Lynn.

“We still have more work to do tonight after we finish supper.”

“We have a good supply of firewood for tonight, the animals are watered and fed, we have three tents set up and Javier ain’t going anywhere. What else is there to do?” asked Lynn.

“Don’t you smell the rain that is about to come tonight or tomorrow?” he asked.

The three women sniffed the air.

“The air does smell…wet,” said Lynn.

“Do you think we are about to have some bad weather?” asked Jane.

“Did you get to speak with Zak, Em?” he asked.

“Yes I did. Doc should be here with the men sometime the day after tomorrow. They are making good progress on the trail. That is a long ride and Doc is traveling with one hundred scouts.”

“It will take them longer than that to get here most likely. It’s gonna’ rain, get colder and maybe even snow. After supper we need to set up a couple of water proof shelters for the horses and mules to keep them dry for the next two days or maybe longer. And I have to set up another tent for the dogs. Then we need to stock up on as much firewood as we can and keep it dry. All those scouts will want to dry out once they get to this box canyon. Knowing Doc he will keep them moving whether it’s raining or not, so I think they will be ready to dry out by a nice warm campfire once they get here. Having a supply of dry firewood will make us look good, real good,” said Francis.

“What about Javier?”

“He will be okay for the next two days at least, as long as we give him water. We might throw a blanket and a canvas over him if it starts to get cold or snow. I will get the firewood pile built up. If we don’t use all the firewood at least it will be there for the next person to use if they find this nook and decide to spend the night. I am sure the rattlesnakes will like the woodpile once we leave,” concluded Francis.

After supper the three able bodied scouts went to work. After three more hours of hard work they sat down to rest and chat before turning in for the night. There was a big pile of firewood under one of the tarps they had set up to shelter the horses and mules.  Francis already had his rain poncho on.  They were sitting around the campfire enjoying a cup of coffee when the first sprinkles of rain began to fall.

“Damn, you were right Francis! It didn’t take long for the rain to get here!” said Jane.

“Hopefully it won’t rain hard. We have it where our fire will burn all night long so we can get warm if the need arises. I covered Javier up for the night with a waterproof canvas. Boy, that slime ball is starting to stink. I will take the first watch tonight. Who wants to take the relief watch?”

“I will do that. I feel so guilty not being able to lift anything heavy. At least I can still pull guard duty with a pistol. You three hard working scouts need your rest,” said Emily.

It started to do more than sprinkle. It started to rain harder.  Not a lot of rain was falling on their campsite because of the high confines of their nook but a person could still get wet.

“Okay. Schultz,” yelled Francis.

Francis walked to one of the pup tents and opened the flap. The terrier bolted inside the two man pup tent and lied down on a blanket that was on the ground next to Francis’ sleeping bag. The small dog had done this drill before.

“Major and Sarge will stay under the horse shelter with Midnight and the other animals to stay dry. I will come and get you in four hours Em.”

The female scouts settled in their tents for the night while Francis left to guard the entrance to the box canyon.

Just as Lynn nestled into her sleeping bag in her tent the rain started to come down heavier. As she started to relax a large thunderclap sounded sending shock waves through the air. The bolt of lightning had landed close. The abrupt sound made Lynn jump. She raised the flap of her tent just in time to see Major and Sarge run into Francis’ tent, parting the two flaps. The two big dogs had joined the alpha male for protection from the lightning. She then lied back down and started to laugh imagining the three dogs huddling together in the small tent.

“So those big bad ass Shepherds don’t like lightning,” she muttered to herself.

She pulled a small travel alarm clock out of a pocket in her sleeping bag and set it to go off in three hours and forty five minutes. Then she lied down and tried to fall asleep but to do so was proving difficult. The sound of frequent lightning striking the desert floor nearby and rumbling, rolling thunder was keeping her awake, along with the rain falling on her tent.

The time seemed to pass slowly. Now it was raining steadily and the lightning along with the thunder continued. Lynn had drifted off to sleep and was awakened by thunder several times. She was drowsy when her small alarm clock sounded. Turning off the device she got dressed inside the small tent then darted in the falling cold rain to where the horses were tethered under the waterproof canvas. She petted the horses and mules and spoke with them but they didn’t seem to be nervous at all. Then she saw Emily emerge from her tent to relieve Francis for guard duty. Emily was wearing her rain gear.

“Em!” she called out.

Emily walked over to where she was standing with the horses and mules underneath the waterproof canvas.

“What are you doing out here girl? You should be trying to get some rest!”

“I am finding it difficult to fall asleep with all the thunder and lightning.”

“Where are the German Shepherds? Are they out in this rain getting wet?” asked Emily, looking around

Lynn laughed.

“No! All three of the dogs are crammed in Francis’ tent! The sound of thunder and lightning must frighten the German Shepherds, the poor sweet babies!”

“No shit! So where is Francis gonna’ sleep tonight? Here with the horses and mules? He might be rolling in horse shit in the morning! Oh ho! Wait! I know a place where he can stay for the night that would be warm and dry and best of all, no fleas!”

She looked at Lynn with a big grin on her face.

“When you go out to relieve him would you tell him that the mutts are in his tent, that there is no room for him and that I am scared to death of lightning and thunder… for me?” she asked with a sly grin.

“I sure will! Now is your chance to…get to know him a little better.”

Lynn hugged her friend.

“Thanks Em!”

Then she ran back to her tent and slipped inside.

After Emily relieved Francis she silently followed the young man back to the campsite without him knowing. Around the corner of the entrance to the nook she watched as Francis first checked his tent with the dogs, said some command and then slipped into Lynn’s tent. She turned and walked back to the entrance of the box canyon with a grin on her face.

Chapter Eleven

Measuring a Soul

The rain fell all night and most of the next day. By nightfall that next day it stopped and things began to dry out even though the air was colder. The following day at noon Doc and his one hundred man escort could be seen moving down the Javier trail a mile away. Janie and Lynn were standing guard at the entrance to the box canyon watching the dogs explore the Javier trail and play which was a unique time for these animals. Lynn was looking through the scope on the Big X.

“Tell me Lynn, before everyone gets here and things start to get busy, are you sleeping well at night?” she asked with a smile.

Lynn lowered her rifle.

“I have never slept better in my life. Francis makes sure I am warm on these cold nights.”

“I bet he does. He doesn’t snore does he?”

“No. He sleeps quietly but sometimes he moves about. I think he has a recurring nightmare but he won’t discuss it with me. He goes right back to sleep. He snuggles real good.”

“He’s a good man. I hope we all get through this war in one piece so we all can live our lives.”

“Me too, Janie. It looks like Doc has two of those one wheeled carts now.”

Jane looked through her binoculars.

“He sure does! That one wheeled cart looks a little different from his though. I wonder why he has two. I don’t see any supplies on the second cart. It looks like just a flat wagon.”

It took Doc and his men thirty minutes to wind down the trail to the box canyon. The dogs ran ahead to greet the forward scouts. They were barking and hopping about in front of the lead men. The three animals knew the smell of scouts. When the lead scout stopped in front of Lynn and Jane they both were happy to see it was Ringo.

“Hi ladies! It looks like somebody has been busy on the Javier trail the past week or two. We found a lot of dead bodies in the boulders just off the edge of the trail.”

“That was Francis’ work and his trademark signature. How have you been Ringo!” exclaimed Jane.

The female scout walked up to his horse. The experienced scout leaned off his horse and gave her kiss on her cheek.

“I have been getting wet Janie. I have been trying to take it easy but you know that crazy old man. How are you doing Night Ranger?” he asked.

“I have been doing okay I guess. What is with the second cart behind Doc’s cart?”

“It is a gift for Francis! You will have to ask Doc about the cart. Is this the box canyon Zak told me about?”

“It is. There is water, a big campfire with plenty of wood and plenty of room for everyone but tell your guys to watch out for rattlesnakes. We haven’t cleared it out. Tell them to snuggle up to the fire, have some coffee and dry out. We have been waiting for you. And if there are any scouts as cute as you tell them to dry out in me and Em’s tent,” said Jane.

Ringo laughed.

“There are always rattlesnakes in this desert. The ones with two legs are the most dangerous,” he said as he headed his horse into the box canyon.

Thirty men entered the box canyon before Doc finally arrived, stopping his one wheeled cart in front of Lynn and Jane. At that moment the two German Shepherds bounded back to the box canyon and sat down next to Lynn.

“Hello ladies and my four legged friends. Those are Francis’ mutts aren’t they?”

“They are my animals also Doc and they ain’t mutts! They are German Shepherds.”

Doc looked at Lynn and arched his right eyebrow.

“Okay young lady. What was your name…again? I know that I have seen you before.”

“It’s Lynn, Lynn Beasley.”

“Okay. And I know Janie. So where is Francis? I have a gift for him and I understand he has a gift for me.”

“He does. Your gift is lying under a canvas a hundred feet on your left in the entrance to a nook in the box canyon,” said Lynn.

“Under a canvas? He’s still alive is he not?”

“Yep. He’s still alive but he’s hurting. We haven’t fed him since we left his ranch. You are lucky he is still alive. I don’t know why Francis didn’t kill him. I certainly wanted to.”

“Well, let’s go check him out Lynn Beasley.”

Doc snapped the reins on the horse pulling his cart and went inside. Lynn, Jane and the two Shepherds followed while the remaining scouts established a security perimeter around the camp. Lynn and Jane paused to watch briefly.

“They know what they are doing I reckon. It’s funny to watch though.”

“Why is that?” asked Jane.

“It looks like it takes twenty men to replace three good dogs.”

Jane watched the scouts take up hidden positions in the nearby boulders. She counted fifteen before the remaining scouts disappeared from view.

“Yeah, it sure looks like it does. I never thought of it like that.”

They went into the box canyon and to their camping nook. Doc was removing the canvas that covered Javier.

“Whew! He is one stinking mess! Didn’t you girls change his Depends?”

“None of us were going to wipe his butt or take him out to pee. Francis said it wouldn’t be necessary once you got here. He told us all you were going to do was weigh him while he killed him,” said Jane.

Doc laughed.

“That’s about right.”

Doc removed the gag on Javier’s mouth. The gag had been placed there for the entire trip. The only way Javier was permitted to get water was with a water bottle equipped with a small nozzle, which the scouts would insert in the corner of his mouth. Of all the scouts who had provided water for the traitor, Lynn was proving to be the most sadistic. She would nearly drown Javier every time she gave him water.

“Please, please help me! They are trying to kill me!” pleaded Javier once Doc removed his gag.

Those were the first words out of his mouth. Lynn knelt down beside the hog tied prisoner.

“If you don’t shut up I am gonna’ cram that gag back in your mouth and down to the back of your throat with the butt of my rifle you piece of crap!”

Javier said no more for the moment but continued to whimper and moan.

“Why the anger Lynn Beasley?” asked Doc.

Jane stepped forward and showed Doc the photograph of Javier, his daughters and the dead scout without saying a word. Doc took the photo and eyed it for a long while.

“I knew that boy. He was a good man.”

Then he handed the photo back to Jane and then snatched it back.

“Do you mind if I keep this photo? I would like to show it to my son the next time I see him.”

“Sure. Take the photo. I sure as hell don’t want it and I didn’t like carrying it but I was planning on giving it to Zak anyways. I always enjoy seeing Zak work up a head of steam,” said Jane.

“Thanks. If you two would get some of my men to help, would you move that new cart over here in this nook? I sure don’t want that smelly man on my cart. His body is full of nasty germs by now. Where the hell is Francis?” he asked.

“He is in his tent probably asleep. He pulled two shifts of guard duty last night and I think Lynn Beasley kept him up for most of the night once he got in that tent,” said Jane with her classic impish grin.

Doc looked at Lynn who had a sly grin on her face. Then the old man sighed.

“Kids! God, I wish I was young again and out in the wilderness with a bunch of good looking women! It would be you two who would be sleeping late today!”

The two women laughed.

“So tell me which tent is Francis in ladies? We have a little experiment to conduct.”

Lynn pointed to the tent Francis was in. The two German Shepherds bounded over to the front of the tent and sat in front of it, wagging their tales. Doc ambled over to the front of the two man tent. Then he tapped on its flaps.

“Francis, wake up! It’s Doc!” he yelled.

Lynn and Jane were standing behind the old man. They both could hear something growling from inside the tent.

“Holy shit! Is Schultz in there?” asked Jane.

“Yeah, the little bastard snuck in there with us last night. He jumps on top of our bodies when we are asleep and roots like a hog roots in the ground until he gets between us. It amazes me he doesn’t suffocate,” said Lynn.

“Francis, wake up!” yelled Doc again.

“Just give me ten more minutes…” was the faint reply emitting from inside the tent.

“Hmpff! He needs ten more minutes? Good lord, it’s almost noon!”

“He will get up if you shake him,” said Lynn with a sly grin on her face.

Doc bent over and parted the two flaps of the tent. He could see Francis’ head and his shoulders. He reached in to shake the young man. Suddenly there was a loud snarl and a several snapping sounds. Doc quickly retrieved his arm.

“Shit! That little fucker just about bit me!”

Lynn and Jane suppressed their laughter. Emily poked her head out of the nearby tent not knowing what was going on. She was the last to pull guard duty as the sun came up this morning.

“What’s all the noise?’ she asked sleepily.

“Doc is getting familiar with Schultz!” exclaimed Jane.

“Here. Let me help you out, Doc,” said Lynn.

She pulled back one of the flaps of the tent.

“Schultz, handeln! Komm her!” she said firmly.

The small dog ambled out of the tent and paused while growling at Doc.

Lynn clapped her hands together and the terrier jumped up into her arms while keeping a watchful eye on Doc.

“Good dog,” she said while reaching into her right coat pocket.

She gave a dog biscuit to Schultz and then to Major and then Sarge, who were sitting at her feet.

“What a nasty little fucker! He did bite me on the edge of my hand! Does he have all his shots?”

“I reckon he does. You will have to email Todd the vet to find out. Now you can wake up Francis,” said Lynn.

“What about those two? Will they allow me to reach in the tent?” asked Doc looking at the big brown and black Shepherds who were sitting next to the tent flaps.

“They will be fine. It’s just this one that is real protective,” she answered while giving Schultz a kiss on the top of his head.

She set the Jack Russell terrier on the ground.

“Dogs, pinkeln gehen!’ she commanded pointing to the exit of the box canyon.

All three dogs ran out of the campsite.

“What did you just tell them to do? Wasn’t that German?” asked Doc.

“Yes it was. I told them to go pee. Francis, wake up! Doc is here for Javier.”

She bent down and stroked the young man’s head. After a few seconds he sat up.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“It is time to take care of that slime ball you have under the canvas! Are you always this difficult to wake up youngster?” asked Doc loudly.

“Usually he gets up right away,” said Lynn.

That comment caused Jane to laugh.

“Give me a minute to get dressed. Lynn, what did I do with my guns?”

“I put them in the right corner of the tent on my side, darling.”

Doc and the two female scouts waited for several minutes for Francis to get decent. He emerged from his tent the same time Emily emerged from hers. Doc noticed her arm in the sling.

“Young lady, after Francis and I get through with this nasty man I want to take a look at that gunshot wound. Plus I have several shots I have to give you.”

Emily walked up to the old man, gave him a firm hug and a sloppy kiss on his cheek. She had known Doc for a long while.

“Do I have to get nikked like I did the last time you gave me a couple of shots?” she asked.

“I love it when my son isn’t around when I perform my doctor chores.

“Hell yeah you do!” exclaimed Emily.

Every one present knew Zak would yell at his father when he got out of line. His statement caused even the nearby scouts to laugh out loud. Everyone knew Doc was one dirty but harmless old man when it came to good looking female scouts. Besides he was a medical doctor.

Lynn walked to the entrance of the nook where they had been camping. The Night Ranger behavior within the young female scout emerged.

“I need some men to unhook that fancy cart from Doc’s cart and push it over here!” she ordered.

She was standing at Javier’s feet. Soon, one man pushed the one wheeled cart to rest by where she was standing. He was a very young man, maybe barely eighteen.

“Is the cart that light?” she asked the young scout.

“Yes ma’am. It rolls real easy. My name is Tommy.”

“My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley. It is nice to meet you, Tommy. Thanks for getting the cart. Have you been scouting a while?”

“No ma’am. This is my first excursion. Which one are you?”

“Which one am I what?” she asked.

“All the guys were talking about what happened at the Javier ranch. They were talking about the Reaper and three women scouts who took out a thousand men.”

“There weren’t that many men, Tommy.”

“So who are you? Are you Calamity Jane, the Black Widow or are you the Night Ranger?”

“My handle is the Night Ranger. What is your handle?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet. I have been thinking about it a lot but I just can’t come up with a good one. All the good ones have been taken.”

“Give it time, Tommy. After your first fight you will know your handle.”

“Thank you Night Ranger! It was nice speaking with you!”

Then the young man turned and quickly walked away. Jane had heard the conversation.

“Boy, Zak is taking in some young ones.”

“It seems so. He seems awful young. Okay Doc, what do we do next?” yelled Lynn.

She wanted to get this chore over with.

Doc went to his personal one wheeled cart, rummaged around in one his boxes mounted on the front and produced a small flat platform that was ten inches wide and twenty inches long. He plugged a ten foot wire into the back of the flat box and attached it to a notebook computer.

“All righty, we are just about ready. If I could get somebody to set this platform in front of the wheel of the new cart all we need to do is push the cart up on the platform.”

Francis and his three female scouts were eyeballing Doc’s one wheeled cart.

“I don’t know what keeps the cart from falling over!” exclaimed Jane.

“It sure looks strange,” added Lynn.

“It’s all gyros mounted in the bottom of the cart. Those are solar panels behind my seat and on the sides. They charge up the batteries in the bottom of the cart to run my gyros. During the day, if my cart is hooked up to my horse, I just let the batteries charge. The only time the cart is not hooked up to my horse is at night usually. I have two jacks that I use to prop it up at night. The only time I activate the cart is when I am on a trail that is bad. Then I turn on the gyros and have a nice smooth, level ride.”

“What about that second cart? It looks…odd,” asked Francis.

“After we get through with the slime ball you and I are going to have a lesson. I, along with some weapons engineers at the Secondary Base, made that cart just for you, youngster. That is my gift for helping me out with my experiment and keeping my son off my butt these past couple of years. I think you are going to like it. It will be perfect for your mule to pull and ease her load. We all feel sorry for that mule.”

Lynn and Jane pushed the new cart up on the small platform. It took no effort at all. Then he set his notebook on the left side and powered up his computer. Soon large numbers appeared on the screen. He fiddled around with the keyboard until there were all zeros on the screen. Then he went to his medical box on the back of his personal cart and rummaged around in a drawer. Soon he stepped back with a small bottle, a syringe and some tubing.

“That is pretty cool, Doc. That scale is a lot smaller than the one at the Secondary Base. Are you sure it is accurate?” asked Francis.

Francis knew exactly what the old man was doing and what he was about to do.

Lynn looked around to see eighty or more men crowded into the entrance of the nook, watching. She saw the scouts passing around the photo that Doc had taken from Jane which made her a little uneasy.

“It is very accurate, within a milligram. Could I get some volunteers to place mister stinky on the cart?”

Immediately, ten scouts rushed over to Javier lying on the ground. The scouts picked him up roughly grabbing him by the edges of his baggy, shitty pants and his shirt. No one wanted to lay their hands on his filthy body to any extent. The scouts slammed his body on the metal one wheeled cart. Javier struggled and started to scream, pleading for his life. No one bothered to gag him. The scouts were enjoying his screams of fear after viewing the photo that had been circulated.

Doc walked over to the struggling man and plunged a needle in his leg.

“What are you doing Doc? You need to establish his weight first!” exclaimed Francis.

“Relax Francis! I am just knocking him out for now so we can establish his weight. I don’t want to use any of my clean straps to secure him to the table. If I do that I would have to disinfect the straps before placing them back on my medical cart. He sure is a nasty mess.”

Francis stepped back and Lynn moved next to him and placed her arm through his, watching.

The sedative took less than two minutes. Javier was lying still on the surface of the new cart. Then Doc fiddled some more with his computer for a few minutes. He then walked over to his cart and lifted his seat to retrieve a clipboard. He then handed the clipboard to Francis.

“All those figures on that sheet are your hand writing. You know what to do.”

Doc then plunged a needle with a valve into Javier’s right arm. Then he clamped the valve to a folding metal arm that was mounted on the side of the one wheeled cart and went back to his computer to check the overall total weight. He finally turned to Francis with a syringe in his hand.

“You know what to do Reaper. It is just like in my lab at the Secondary Base. I know the exact weight of the drug so make sure you extend that plunger fully in the syringe’s chamber.”

“Excuse me lover, I have to check something then I will be right back,” he said to Lynn.

Francis walked over to the computer and checked the screen for a long minute. Then he returned to stand next to Lynn.

“The weight is stable Doc. We are ready. Do you see Javier’s name on that sheet at the bottom Lynn?”

Lynn looked at the clipboard Francis had handed to her.

“Yes.”

“To the right is a column for his weight. He weight is one hundred, eighty pounds and twenty three grams on the nose. Write that in the first column.”

Lynn carefully did what Francis asked. There was silence in the nook.

“I just want to change things a little Doc. In my hand is the tool that will tell us how much of a soul Javier has. I just want to offer the opportunity of killing this asshole to one of my fellow scouts who risked their lives to bring him here for justice. Who wants to do this? All you have to do is insert the needle in that valve and push the plunger. Who wants the honor? Night Ranger? Calamity Jane? Black Widow? You ladies earned this.”

Jane quickly stepped forward. She had been lobbying for Francis to kill Javier the entire trip to the box canyon along with Lynn.

“Would it be okay if I did this for us Lynn? How about you Em? Do you want the honor?”

“Do it Janie!” said Emily.

Lynn nodded her head in agreement.

Jane inserted the needle into the valve. Before pushing the plunger she spoke.

“This is for our twenty scouts who died free!”

Then she pushed the plunger.

The notebook sitting on the cart was monitoring Javier’s heartbeat and blood pressure. The numbers started to fall in seconds along with the line displaying his heartbeat. Within one minute Javier flat lined.

Doc walked over to look at the screen. Then he turned to announce his results.

“That is a record. The average weight of the bad guys we have terminated before this man has been four point seven grams. This man lost two point eight grams at the time of death. He didn’t have much of a soul.”

The scouts in the box canyon cheered. Once the verbal exchanges died down Lynn asked Francis a question.

“How much does a good person’s soul weigh?”

“Doc has found that a person who has lived a good life has a soul that weighs around twenty one grams. Some weigh more, some weigh less but all weighed a lot more than two point eight grams. Write that down on the clipboard baby and then we need to get ready to ride.”

“Aren’t we gonna’ stay here tonight and say hi to Doc’s men?”

Francis laughed.

“Well, if you want to stay here for one more night I am all for doing that but Doc and his men will be leaving as soon as he explains what is with the new cart. I am in no hurry.”

Lynn smiled.

“I will do whatever you want to do Francis. I just have one request. Can Doc and his men take Javier out of here for us? He is really stinking up the place.”

“I think the guys will agree to that.”

Francis left her and went over to speak with some of Doc’s scouts. Within a minute several of them brought their horses to the cart where Javier’s body laid. One of the scouts tied a rope around Javier’s ankles. Upon his signal the man with the rope spurred his horse and yanked Javier’s body off the cart landing on the rough desert ground. Then several men took off on their horses following the lead scout dragging Javier’s body on the ground. Francis walked back over to Lynn.

“They look like they really enjoyed that,” she said.

“The scouts will drag him out into the desert for a mile or two before they cut him loose. That will make it easier for the scavengers to eat him.”

Chapter Twelve

First Date

Francis and the three women, the three mules and the three dog squadron spent another night at the box canyon. It took Doc two hours to show him the functions built into the gift cart. By the time he was through there was only four hours of daylight left so Francis decided to spend the night and get the much needed rest. Lynn tried her best to talk the old man into spending one more night but he was insistent on putting some miles on the Javier trail. Scott had scouts that needed medical attention. Lynn made a mental note to never travel with Doc.

The next morning, as soon as the sun rose, the Reaper and his squadron were on a trail that branched off the Javier trail heading north. This was a mountain trail that took them to a much higher elevation in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It was a clear, sunny day and the air was cold but not freezing. All of the views of the surrounding terrain were spectacular. The Free America squadron could see for miles with their binoculars.

Lynn was riding next to him with Schultz nestled in the saddle between her legs. Behind them were the three mules. Betty, as usual, was following Midnight while Cleopatra followed Butch, pulling the new one wheel cart that was laden with supplies. Behind them were Emily and Jane with Justine following Jane. The two Shepherds were scouting ahead.

“So where are we headed Francis? Is this the way to the twin caves?”

“It is. If you are on a fast horse with a relief horse you can make it in three or four days from here, depending on the weather. It’s a one hundred mile ride on these high steep trails. Do you know where the Lovelock State prison is located?”

“Not really. I heard it is tucked in the northwest corner of Nevada.”

“That’s where it’s at. To the east about five miles away from that prison in a box canyon is FEMA Camp 43. The twin caves are north of the FEMA camp up in the mountains. There is a small town named Black Ridge twenty or so miles south of the FEMA camp that is starting to thrive. That is where most of the one hundred thousand personnel working for Homeland Security live. There is a ghost town a few miles south of the FEMA camp named Rochester that ain’t really a ghost town anymore.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Back at the turn of the century it was a ghost town. Seventy years before that it was a growing town because of silver but it died off because the town was difficult for the railroad to manage because of the steep terrain. When the railroad closed down it became a ghost town. For a while at the turn of the twenty first century when silver prices increased an open pit mine was established a mile north of town. Since the economic collapse and the price of silver shot off the charts that mine has been running twenty four hours a day, seven days a week for the federal government.  Now the upper half of the ghost town is buried under tailings.”

“Tailings? What are tailings?”

“Tailings are trash, things like that.”

“You mean a dump?

“Yep. It is mostly rock and dried out slime. The mountain of tailings is five hundred feet in height and a good mile or two across. The north part of the town is at the bottom of that mountain. The south part of the town is now occupied by some rough people and some rough outfits. It has been rebuilt since Homeland Security opened FEMA Camp 43. Black Ridge is where the FEMA personnel live and raise their families if they have families. I imagine there are a lot of single men and women too. It is just Black Ridge doesn’t have the things Rochester has.”

“Things like what?”

“Things like whore houses, bars, liquor stores, drug dens and gambling houses. Rochester is where the government FEMA personnel go to sin,” said Francis with a laugh.

“Really? Alcohol is against the law now.”

“There is no law in Rochester. Only the law of the gun rules Rochester. I have been there a few times. It is a wide open and rough town. You have to be careful in Rochester if you visit there. When the FEMA guards go to town they usually go in groups that are armed to the teeth and on the weekends there are quite a few FEMA guards visiting and doing some serious sinning. The gambling and whore houses have their own private security forces that keep order. So do most commercial establishments. The last time I was there was about six months ago. Rochester even had two boarding houses that opened up, big boarding houses but most people drive back to Black Ridge where the motels are or camp nearby in one of the valleys because of the outrageous prices.”

“How many FEMA and Homeland Security people visit on a weekend?”

“I would say ten thousand at least. Plus there are a lot of other people who come from the surrounding territory. I have seen Lovelock prison personnel there before and that’s a little drive to Rochester. And don’t forget the miners. There are ten thousand plus employees working at the open pit mine and they get paid well.”

“I didn’t know this!”

“The federal government tolerates the place because they pay heavy taxes in the form of silver. The feds need silver now that foreign governments don’t take the dollar.”

“I thought Las Vegas was supposed to be Sin City!”

“It is but Las Vegas is nothing like Rochester. It is a corrupt town that has aligned itself with the government in order to do business.”

“Is there any form of government like a mayor and stuff like that?”

Francis laughed.

“No! There are block bosses I think they are called. Sort of like organized crime but out in the open. The only rule is if you have the money and the muscle you buy a one square block in the ghost town from the federal government and do what you want with that land. The streets are neutral territory and so are the sidewalks. At least, the sidewalks are supposed to be neutral. There were around twenty four blocks the last time I was in the town. These are good sized blocks. What is weird is there are no stop signs or traffic lights and no cops. There are cars, trucks and a lot of horses mingling in the streets. If you get in car wreck or hit someone’s horse it usually gets settled with a gun. There are a lot of gunfights on the weekend in Rochester.”

“Good Lord! It sounds like something out of the old wild west!”

“Yep. It is worse than that. You spend a Friday or Saturday night in Rochester your adrenaline will be up along with your gun.”

“So the undertaker does a good business, just like in the old movies!”

“No, but the two crematoriums in town do a brisk business I’m sure. There is only one way in and out of town because of the mountain of tailings at the north end. I have never passed by any graveyard but you will pass by two crematoriums at the entrance to the town.”

“We aren’t going there are we?”

“We don’t have to pass through the town to get to the twin caves. However, I have a good friend who owns a small bar and package liquor store in the first block of the town. We are getting low on booze and I know a back alley we can go down to get to his establishment. He has a big stable in the back that is well hidden. I thought I would stop by and pick up a case of Jack Daniels with Javier’s credit card now that we have the one wheel cart. You know, stop by for a couple of minutes, say hi, get a case of Jack, have a drink and get the hell out. You only live once woman. Plus you can step out in front of Tom’s place and look down the main street, which is one of two streets and see the circus. It is ten times brighter at night then it is in Las Vegas.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” she laughed.

“Sure.”

“It sounds like some date. Will we be safe? I don’t want anything happening to Janie, Em or the dogs.”

“We should be safe. Tom has a small bar and just sells booze plus he is in the first block of the town. He pays his block landlord a percentage of his profit for protection. His place is kind of like a sports bar. Where he makes his money is selling booze to people leaving Rochester. His place is the last place on the way out of town to buy booze or get one for the road. He says he is making money. I have known him for the last two and a half years.”

“Does he know who you are?”

“No. He thinks I am a prospector looking for the mother lode in the mountains of Nevada. No one has a picture of me, just a picture of Betty. Everyone in these hills has a horse and a mule if they are mountain tramps…or bounty hunters in some cases. That is what you have to watch out for if you are a scout. That million dollar reward credit from the federal government brings out all the tough guys in the turbulent cities who are failures in life trying to attain the mother lode that way, by killing a scout from Free America.”

“Have you ever had anyone trying to collect that reward when you were in this town?”

“No. Betty is always in the rear stable out of view and I don’t go into Tom’s bar and attract attention. Plus I only stay for a drink or two. I have been lucky so far, I reckon.”

“How many times have you been in this place?”

“Oh, I reckon around ten times over the past two years just to buy some booze before I head to the twin caves or when I am leaving to hit the trail. I have never had any problems in there. Most of the people that are leaving Rochester come in for a last stiff drink before going back to Black Ridge or the mine. His package store does a brisk business because of the alcohol laws in the territories. If you would go with me on a little date you would quit asking so many damn questions.”

“I will think about it and when we get near the town I will let you know. From what you have told me I have all week to think about it,” replied Lynn

“Take your time and let me know,” said Francis.

“I think you have already made up your mind about going to Rochester,” replied the female scout.

“We have one big bottle of Jack to share around the campfire during supper. You three women seem to take big sips. A bottle like that would last me two weeks, maybe longer.”

“Janie and Em do like to partake of the illegal liquid. It is not bad. It makes you sleep well and calms the nerves.”

Francis laughed at her statement.”

“It’s good for that but I don’t use booze in that manner. You will find riding with me that you can’t beat a bottle of good whiskey when it comes to bartering with someone out in the wild with something you need.”

“Or maybe killing someone because of its value?”

“That’s true too.”

* * * * *

Just as Francis had said, on the fifth day of travel the small squadron stopped on a mountain trail high in the mountains. It was just starting to get dark. Looking down from their lofty perch the group could see a concentrated patch of bright light. Francis pointed at the illumination in the valley which was three miles away.

“That ladies, is Rochester.”

The three female scouts peered down on the town using their binoculars.

“It doesn’t look like much! Those buildings look pretty old!” exclaimed Jane.

“Some of them are old. I haven’t been in the heart of the town. There are too many bounty hunters that know how a scout from Free America looks like or how they usually dress. If I put on some khaki’s and a dress shirt along with street shoes they wouldn’t recognize me.”

“This damn trail you followed is up in the clouds! Aren’t there lower trails?” asked Jane.

“If you mean easier trails, there are. This is the trail I use to bypass the town. Five or six miles on ahead we will come to the trail to the twin caves which is composed of all hard pan. The horses and mules won’t leave anything that can be tracked. There is an area up ahead off to the right where we can camp off the trail and have a campfire. Look around! There are campfires all over the mountains that are beneath where we are.”

The three women scanned the surrounding mountains and saw numerous campfires blazing in the forests.

“That’s good. At least we won’t stand out other than the fact we are crazy for taking this high trail,” said Lynn.

“With our camp they won’t even see the fire as long as it is night. We will be gone when the sun gets up in the sky. Do you two mind babysitting the horses and mules while I take Lynn down to Tom’s to get some Jack Daniels?”

“Do you think two horses will be sufficient to carry back the cases?” asked Janie.

“Good lord yes!’ exclaimed Francis.

“Then Em and I will guard the horses. It shouldn’t take you long and after listening to your stories about that town I sure as hell don’t want to go. Are you going Lynn?”

For the last five days Lynn had not given Francis an answer. Finally she did.

“I will go but we only stay for one drink Francis. We don’t need any more trouble.”

“Of course baby! We ain’t going there to start any trouble. If you don’t want to have a drink we can just slip in the back and get the booze.”

“No. Does Tom have ice?”

“We don’t need ice Lynn! It’s cold enough up in these mountains!” exclaimed Emily who was bundled up with a thick leather coat, the kind a scout typically wore.

“Are you sure? You told me you like ice with your Pepsi.”

“Well yeah, but the soda is cold enough. After the second drink I don’t think it matters anyhow!” said Jane laughing.

“Well, maybe but I will get us a small bag of ice and a six pack of Pepsi if I can.”

“That will be no problem. Tom doesn’t have a backwoods bar. It is pretty nice actually,” said Francis.

It took the four scouts less than an hour to tend to the animals and set up their camp for the night. Finally, Francis and Lynn were ready to leave on their date.

“You two be careful. One of us will climb up on the side of this mountain for a little ways and watch your ride with the fancy scope on one of the Big X’s,” said Emily.

“You don’t have to do that but if it makes you feel better than go ahead. Lynn and I won’t be in Tom’s place for more than five minutes at the most.”

“What about the mutts?” asked Jane.

“They won’t stay,” said Lynn.

“They will stay in the stable behind Tom’s to guard Midnight and Butch. We will be back in an hour…Mom,” said Francis.

Francis kicked Midnight’s flanks and the horse started to walk down the mountain trail that led to Rochester.

“Mom! That is real funny! Take care of my little boy Night Ranger,” replied Jane.

Lynn followed Francis and thirty minutes later they were moving down a poorly lit alley that was to the right of the two main streets. They didn’t go far before Francis steered Midnight into a barn like structure. The two Shepherds rushed ahead of him and entered the building. Lynn paused on Butch for a brief moment, listening. She heard no growling or anybody screaming. She figured the structure must be empty and spurred Butch to enter. She was correct in her assumption. As she dismounted Butch in the dark she saw Francis twisting his hands together. After moving closer to his body she saw he was screwing two tubes on the ends of two of his Colt 1911s.

“What are those, silencers?”

“The best money can buy.”

“I thought you said there would be no trouble!” she exclaimed softly.

“There won’t be any trouble as long as the security people on this block hear no gunfire!”

“Swell,” she sighed.

“Come on and relax. This is our first date.”

Francis embraced her and gave her a long kiss while the three dogs watched with quizzical looks on their faces.

“Okay. We will go in the back entrance. That entrance is where the package store is located. I will introduce you to Tom as my partner, he will get us the cases of Jack Daniels and then we will come back out here and load them on the horses. Then we go back, sit at the bar, have a drink, pay up and leave. Simple.”

“What about the ice and Pepsi?”

“Well order that too! Let’s go. Pack, Schutz!”

The three dogs spread out in the stable. Before leaving Francis unscrewed the only dim light bulb that was hanging at the entrance to the stable in the alley. Now the stable was dark. He then grabbed Lynn’s hand and headed across the dirt alley to a rear door.

He opened the door like a gentleman and motioned for Lynn to go ahead of him. Looking back briefly at the darkened stable he saw a big brown head and a smaller one sticking out from the dark shadows watching his every move. He couldn’t see the black Shepherd but he knew he was there lurking somewhere in the dark. Then he entered Tom’s package store and closed the door softly without slamming it.

Lynn was not surprised by what she saw when she entered Tom’s. In the rear of the store there was an area that was the size of Zak’s office. It was small and was filled with metal shelves that stood ten feet in height. The shelves were packed with many cases of booze. On the floor between the shelves were more boxes. A person could barely move in the so called package store.

Francis took three steps down a short, dirty hallway and looked to his right into what appeared to be an office.

“Tom!” he exclaimed.

“Francis! It’s been a long time! I figured you must have hit it rich and cut out of this territory!”

“No. I haven’t found the mother lode yet! But I did find a partner! Her name is Lynn.”

“Well, I’ll be! It’s nice to meet you Lynn!” said Tom.

Tom was a short, chubby man with a severely receding hairline. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks and worst of all, he smelled bad. Lynn firmly shook his hand.

“I wish I could find a partner like that Francis! Are you here for the usual?”

“You know me Tom. I don’t like to waste time! Some one might find my gold! This time I would like to buy three cases of Jack Daniels if you have them in stock.”

“Three cases of Jack Daniels? You must have hit the mother lode! All I have are two cases of fifths and a case of pints. Will that do?”

“That will have to do,” replied Francis.

“Do have any ice and a six pack of Pepsi?” asked Lynn.

“Oh ho! It sounds like your partner knows how to drink good whiskey. I sure do young lady. I will get your Pepsi and ice. The three cases of Jack Daniels are right behind you on the floor.”

“I will load up the booze and be right back. Lynn and I would like to have a drink at your bar before we hit the trail.”

“You must have found some gold! You have never done that before Francis.”

“I have been making a little money plus I have a sponsor now.”

Tom took off to the front of his liquor store while Francis grabbed the three cases of Jack Daniels.

“Wait here for me. Why don’t you take a peek and see who or what is in the bar?” ordered Francis.

Lynn nodded her head yes.

She moved down the hallway to where she could see the rest of Tom’s establishment. There was a bar that was twenty feet in length that fronted the package part of the bar in the rear of the room. There was one man sitting at the bar and on the main floor there were maybe twenty round tables with four chairs at each table. There were two pairs of men sitting at the tables near the double swinging doors and the entrance. It was just like she saw in old westerns. It was a dirty dusty bar with wood floors and old fashioned dim lighting. The place gave her the creeps.

Soon Tom returned with a black plastic bag.

“Here is your six pack of Pepsi and we only sell four pound bags of ice.”

“That will do. Thank you.”

“How long have you been prospecting with Francis?”

“About ten days now. We haven’t been prospecting yet. We have been riding to get here to work his claim.”

“It must have been a long ride! Does he still have those mutts?”

Lynn immediately thought that Tom was asking too many questions.

“Dogs?”

“Yes ma’am. He used to have three if I remember correctly. All I remember is he had a real small one that pissed on me…twice!”

“No. There are no dogs.”

“Is this gonna’ be silver, gold or government credits?” asked Tom.

“It will be government credits. Francis has a credit card from our sponsor.”

“Let me work up the damages. Jack Daniels is getting almost as expensive as gold!”

Tom moved into his office. Francis returned and Lynn grabbed his arm.

“What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t feel right. I think we should get the hell out of this shit hole,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“Your friend is to damn nosey, that’s why!”

Tom returned with an invoice.

“Just hold the invoice for now Tom. Lynn and I want a couple of shots of Jack and two cold Pepsi sodas at your bar. We are here to enjoy your hospitality.”

He took Lynn’s hand and moved to sit at the far end of the bar against the wall. As Lynn sat down Francis spoke.

“I will be right back. I have to use the bathroom.”

“Francis! Don’t leave me here by myself!” she exclaimed.

“It’s okay lover. I just have to pee. I will be right back.”

He took off and turned at the end of the bar down the same hallway they had used to enter. Tom served up two healthy shots of Jack Daniels and two glasses of Pepsi with ice.

“The drinks are on the house young lady. I do that for good customers. Francis looks well! I have never seen him smile before.”

“Thank you Tom. You have a nice place here,” she replied.

Tom looked over her shoulder and she could tell from his expression that something was wrong. She turned to see four rough men enter the building. She knew immediately they were bounty hunters by the way they were dressed. They stood in the center of the building looking at the patrons who were sitting at the tables and then began to eye the young female scout intently. She turned and glanced at them, then turned back to the bar and took a long, slow slip of Jack Daniels. Then she took a long sip of Pepsi.

“Hey beautiful! I like your outfit! I also like those boots that you are wearing. Is that horseshit on the back of your right boot? I would think a good looking girl like you would have driven a car to Rochester and not be riding in on a horse. What are you doing riding around on a horse in these parts?” asked one of the men, loudly.

While she had her back to the four men she was slowly moving her right hand closer to her Baretta in her right holster.

“Now, now honey! You just keep those pretty hands of yours above the bar,” said the same man.

Tom slowly moved over to his right out of any line of fire.  

“Hey, I am talking to you good looking! Answer me before I come over and yank you off that bar stool…scout.”

Lynn kept her hands still.

“Answer me!” he yelled.

A voice materialized out of the dark hallway to the rear of the bar.

“She doesn’t answer to no one, you ugly, little dicked mother fucker.”

The four men slowly moved their heads to see a dark shadowy figure in the hallway wearing a black wide brimmed hat, the type of hat a scout would wear. The four men could see smoke drifting from his face and could see the end of a small thin cigar burning brightly.

“Oh, we have a bad ass to deal with at Tom’s place guys.”

The four bounty hunters laughed.

Suddenly a small animal bolted into the bar. It was a small dog. The dog quickly moved low to floor and went to the man nearest the wall left of the swinging double doors in the entrance. He lifted his rear leg and peed on the man’s right leg.

“You little bastard!” screamed the man.

Schultz bolted out of the bar as the man turned to his right drawing his pistol from his right holster. Instantly, four quick sounds filled the bar, only the sounds resembled four quick dull thumps, as if someone was slapping the top of the bar with a gloved hand. Lynn whirled with her Baretta in her right hand but she was too late. She saw the four bounty hunters whirl, grabbing their chests and emitting small, subdued sounds of pain. Four more muffled slaps of deadly sound filled the air in the bar before the men hit the wood floor with four distinct thumps..

The four men who were in the bar sitting at tables froze not daring to move with fear on their faces. Francis strolled over to Lynn placing his Colt’s back in his holsters not bothering to look at the four dead men lying on the wood floor. Then he sat down next to his woman and downed the big shot of Jack Daniels that filled the shot glass Tom had placed on the bar counter top, chasing it with a cold Pepsi.

“Give us another Tom,” he calmly said.

Schultz ran into the bar again, circled the men and looked at the double swinging doors. He turned to Francis briefly and barked three times then ran out.

“I think we should leave now Francis!” said Lynn.

“I ain’t in any hurry, plus I ain’t settled up with Tom, lover.”

Tom nervously poured two more drinks, spilling more Jack Daniels on top of the bar then he got in the two glasses.

“Francis!” pleaded Lynn.

“Relax. There will be three more men coming in here to see what the hell is going on. No one heard my shots and those four men sitting at the tables aren’t going to move. We have time to finish our first date. This is my first date too.”

One minute later three men entered Tom’s place, pausing just inside the entrance with the swinging double doors.

When they entered Francis slowly turned on his bar stool. At first the three bounty hunters didn’t know exactly what they were viewing. They saw their four bounty hunter friends lying on the wood floor with pools of blood forming under their bodies. The forty fives of Francis had blown large chunks out flesh out of their backs. That was all the time Francis needed to deal with the three new arrivals.

As he drew his Colt a brown and black ball of fur hit the two men on each side of the man in the middle in the back, driving them forward down to the wood floor. Francis at the same time plugged the man in the middle directly in the chest driving him in the opposite direction. The two men on the floor yelled briefly. Then the screaming ceased. The big Shepherds had grabbed them in the back of their necks, crushing their throats in their powerful jaws. Both Shepherds held the two men rigidly on the floor while the Jack Russell terrier rushed inside and started to grab their pant legs, shaking his head and growling.

“You better tell Schultz to cease in German before he tears those two men apart,” said Francis with a grin.

“Schultz, enden!” commanded Lynn.

The small dog stopped his attack, first looking at Lynn and then checking the fallen men by trotting around them, sniffing. Then he ran out of the bar.

“You can tell Sarge and Major to go guard. Both of those men are dead.”

“Sarge, Major, Schutz!” Lynn said with a shaky voice.

“Well, that was a fun date! I am about ready to go. Are you ready to go lover?” asked Francis.

Lynn was shaking. She motioned for Tom.

“No. Tom, I need one for the road and make it a double.”

Francis grinned.

“I will take another too Tom! How much do I owe you?”

Tom was visibly shaken.

“Everything is on the house Francis! You just need to get out of here!”

Francis turned to look at the four men frozen at their two tables. The men looked to be in shock.

“You boys ain’t planning on leaving my party are you?”

All four men shook their heads no.

“We have time Tom! Here, put the booze and the damages to clean your place up on this government card and don’t forget to triple whatever you come up with. Go run it through the government computer terminal and let me know if it is good.”

Tom took the card and it took him several attempts to swipe the card because he was shaking so badly. It took him even longer to punch in the amount on the small numeric keyboard.

“It’s good Francis! The money had been transferred. Thanks, I think.”

Francis and Lynn stood up. Now she wasn’t shaking so bad.

“It was nice meeting you Tom,” she said.

“Likewise,” he replied.

The couple ambled out of the bar where Midnight, Butch and the pack were patiently waiting in the rear stable. Mounting their rides they headed out of town.

Every instinct in her body told her to spur Butch and flee up the mountain trail but she followed Francis, who was letting Midnight walk as the two Shepherds ran ahead into the dark. Schultz started to pace Lynn whining to mount Butch. She stuck out her left foot and the small dog jumped, hitting her foot and then landing on the saddle. He settled down in his usual space.

Thirty five long minutes later they were back at the campsite with Jane and Emily.

“I was watching through my scope after you two left. It must have been a hell of a date! I saw men carrying several stretchers with bodies laying on them out of one of the buildings after you guys left!” said Emily.

“What went on at the bar, Francis?” asked Jane.

“We had a few drinks, bought some cases of Jack Daniels and had a good time. I think it was a good first date. It was the first date I have ever been on.  Was it a good date lover?” asked Francis turning to Lynn.

Lynn smirked and shook her head yes.

“It was a hell of a first date, one that I will never forget. I think the mutts had more fun than anyone. Good boys!”

She took three dog biscuits out of her left coat pocket. She handed the first one to Schultz and then Major and Sarge. She gave the German Shepherds a firm hug around their necks.

“I just have one question.”

“What’s that?” asked Francis.

“How did you know that three more men were going to come in the bar and start trouble?”

“You heard Schultz! He barked three times. He let me know there were three more men waiting outside looking for trouble. After he distracted the four men for me, giving me the opportunity to kill them, he ran outside to get help.  That was Major and Sarge who were on guard duty in the stable. After that it was just a routine kill.”

“That is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life! That little knucklehead can count?”

“He’s a smart little dog. He can count up to twenty. After that he runs out of toes.”

Lynn laughed and then got serious.

“Thank you for the date. I can say it was one of the most exciting dates I have ever had. Actually, that was my first date too. There is no dating when you are in a FEMA camp.”

“Really? If I had realized that we would have gone next door and ordered something to eat. You know, sit down at a table with dinnerware, things like that.”

“What is next door to Tom’s?”

“It’s named the Grizzly Steak House except they rarely serve steaks but sometimes they do if they get a shipment of them. When they get steaks the place is packed. Any place that gets fresh steaks in Rochester gets packed.”

“What do they serve in the meantime?”

“Hamburgers, elk and venison are usually in stock. That is why there are so many campfires in the mountains. Those are hunters who have returned with some fresh kill to sell to the block bosses who all have eating establishments. They usually hit up the Grizzly Steak House since it is the first restaurant you come across entering Rochester.”

“And the last one when you are leaving. How do they know the meat is fresh kill for sure?”

“Marky, the manager, and Pedro, the owner, won’t buy anything unless it is alive when delivered.”

“How do hunters manage that?”

“They shoot the animals in a rear leg with a tranquilizer and then they have dogs that track them down. Then they bandage them up to stop any blood loss and have horses with carts to haul ass to Rochester. Marky is pretty smart and so is Pedro. The Grizzly Steak House is the only place in town where you can get something to eat and not die from food poisoning. Most people, at least the locals know that. It’s the tourists from out of town that die from food poisoning eating in the interior restaurants in Rochester.”

“You are bull shitting me aren’t you Francis?”

“No!”

“Where are the health inspectors, people like that?”

“Are you kidding me? There ain’t no nothing here in this part of Nevada. There ain’t even a medical clinic or hospital. The nearest help is in Black Ridge if you get shot or sick.”

“That is unbelievable. At least in the FEMA camp I never had to worry about what was being served.”

“You have to use your head out here now days. Marky and Pedro advertise what they do and they have a good location. I reckon that’s what it’s all about. Some of the competing block bosses have got the word out to offer more money for fresh kill but most of the hunters don’t want to go through town with their trophies. It is too dangerous. All someone would have to do is get out in the street, shoot them and then take their meat. They are guaranteed safe passage to the Grizzly Steak House and their money is good. The hunters usually stay on that first block and leave broke after a couple of days. You can make some good silver if you know how to hunt in these mountains.”

“Have you met some of these hunters?”

“Not many. Me and the dogs manage to avoid them and their traps.”

“Have you ever met the block boss for Tom and the Marky and Pedro fellows?”

“Yes I have. I have met Pedro two or three times at Javier’s ranch.”

“You met him at Javier’s ranch! Why would he be at Javier’s ranch? Javier’s ranch is a long ride from here!”

“Pedro was there to get some deer that Javier’s ranch hands managed to trap alive in the mountains. Also, he is Javier’s younger brother. Javier was the one who lent him the money to buy his block six or seven years ago, so I was told.”

“Holy shit! I imagine he wouldn’t be too happy about what we did if he knew about it!”

“Naw, he wouldn’t be upset about it. He is like his older brother, a piece of shit. The last time I was at the Javier Ranch they were arguing over what had been repaid for the purchase of the block. The younger brother was yelling and screaming that he had repaid the money that was owed several times over. I just got some supplies and left.”

“So Javier’s brother knows what you look like and knows your name”

“I don’t think so.”

“Does he know what you do?”

“He thinks I’m a hunter. I am.”

“But he must have seen the dogs!”

“He probably did but they weren’t in the ranch house with me. He’s lucky to be alive. During their argument he threatened to kill Javier several times. He had two goons with him. Javier let him know I was the one who killed the bounty hunters and saved him and his daughters. He also told his little brother we were good friends, which we weren’t. His little brother settled down after that and I left.”

“What’s his brothers name?  Pedro?”

“Pedro but he goes by Bossman. He is just like his big brother.”

“No he’s not, not anymore. His brother is dead.”

Francis laughed.

“We all four will have to go in there one of these days to get something to eat!” exclaimed Emily.

“I don’t think so!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Why? You don’t like to double date?” asked Emily.

The Black Widow’s comment caused laughter.

“No, it’s not that. I can just think of better places to get something to eat.”

“Where? There aren’t many places in this state anymore where you can walk in with your guns and get something to eat, at least since the Civil War cranked up,” said Emily.

“Maybe if we found a smaller, more open place with windows so we can watch our horses and mules along with my dogs. There are too many thieves in this country running loose,” said Lynn.

“You have a good point young lady. I know of a few small towns in this part of Nevada that fit the bill. If we run across one of them one of these days I will take all three of you to dinner or lunch,” said Francis.

“You okay with that Night Ranger?” asked Jane with a grin on her face.

“Sure. I will share Francis with my best friends. Besides, he is the one who has the money.”

“A toast to friendship!” exclaimed Jane.

She poured everyone a healthy shot of Jack Daniels in their tin cups. The four scouts clinked their metal cups together and took a big swig. The three dogs missed it as they were in the dark pulling guard duty for the night.

* * * * *

Chapter Thirteen

The Twin Caves

Francis and his female troop were packed and on the move when the morning sun started to reflect off some low lying clouds to the east in the high mountains. It was one of those classic red sunrises that the Mojave Desert and the Sierra Mountains was known for. It was also cold this morning but not below freezing. This was the type of weather that was good for riding a horse. At least Francis did not have to worry about ice on the treacherous trail. Even though this mountain path was one dangerous trail the two Shepherds and the Jack Russell terrier were acting frisky moving alongside, behind and in front of the horses along with the mules. One misstep on this trail would result in a horse with its rider sliding down a long steep rocky slope to their death. None of the scouts let the thought cross their minds. The mountain horses and the three mules were surefooted. The four scouts trusted their mounts.

The two German Shepherds also knew how to traverse high mountain trails, staying away from the exposed edge where a fall could occur. Schultz would eventually beg to ride in either Francis’ or Lynn’s saddle bag once discovering that a trail was higher than normal, staying low within his leather refuge and seldom raising to a sitting position to look about. When he did he would whine for a brief moment and settle back down in the bottom of the saddle bag. Francis would close the flap to his saddle bag when Schultz would elect to ride with him. When the small animal would ride with Lynn she would make sure the flap to the bag was open where she could look down and reassure the feisty dog. When he would sit up to look out to see where he was she would slip him a dog biscuit to encourage him to face his fear of heights and learn to deal with it. He would take the biscuit and lay back down but he didn’t let the reward dictate his behavior. He would, for the most part, hide in the bottom of the saddle bag.

After riding for part of the morning, putting some distance between them and the town of Rochester, Francis dismounted Midnight and examined the ground. The women wondered just what the young man had seen or what he was looking at with such interest. The trail was composed of almost solid flat rock along with small pebbles strewn here and there. He had stopped his horse at where a steep mountain trail broke off to his right.

“Someone has come this way fairly recently, within the last forty eight hours. There are two sets of fresh horse tracks and they turned up the trail towards the twin caves.”

“How many riders?” asked Jane.

She dismounted her horse and looked at what Francis was looking at.

“Hmm, whoever it was is riding a big horse. It took some weight to leave a horseshoe indent on that granite rock. It looks like a Free America horseshoe made that mark.”

“So how many riders?” asked Lynn.

“At least two and maybe three riders came this high up on the trail. They turned and went in the same direction we are riding. I think it might be the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo or maybe Ringo.”

“I thought they said they were headed east at Zak’s scout meeting last week,” said Emily.

“I don’t know about that. Amanda told me she was running low on explosives and poison. She also said she might be seeing me soon because she knew I was headed this way. It took longer than I expected to get here but she knows I never get anywhere in a hurry. At any rate we need to keep our guard up and keep an eye on the ground for further tracks.”

“Do the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo normally leave a trail?” asked Lynn.

“I don’t think she worries about leaving a trail. Any trails those two leave are usually trails of dead government soldiers. What we need to worry about is booby traps if she has already left but she wouldn’t do that in this instance if she is at the twin caves unless she felt that someone was tracking her. Not many people use this high trail or use the one to the twin caves. There is only one true way in and out to the twin caves. We both leave a booby trap when we leave. It is an exotic booby trap too.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Lynn.

“If one booby trap is triggered, it sends out a signal to another just up the trail that is one mile from the one at the entrance. Anyone caught in between is dead and when that happens there are two more traps that are automatically set based on motion. If they are triggered than a third becomes active and is set off by motion. The final trap is one that will blow up half the mountain and the poison gas cloud that is released will not be time sensitive.”

“Meaning?” asked Lynn.

“The cloud goes with the wind and whatever is touched will die. Eventually the poison will dissipate in the air but not for a long time, a very long time.”

“How long will such a cloud last Francis?” she asked.

“It will last for a day or two with as much poison as we have stockpiled in the caves. It depends on how strong the wind is blowing.”

“Would it last long enough to kill the people in Rochester?”

“If the wind is blowing in the right direction it will do that. Usually, the wind isn’t blowing in that direction in these mountains. There aren’t many people on this earth that could find the twin caves. You have a maze of boulders to travel through and thirty or forty off shoot trails that go nowhere all sitting on hard rock. It is impossible to follow tracks on the hard pan. A person could be lost for days in the boulder maze.”

“How did you find the twin caves?”

“It was pure luck and coincidence. A long time ago I ran across an old prospector on the way to Battle Mountain one night. He had been shot by a couple of outlaw bounty hunters and he was hurt. He managed to kill the two bounty hunters with an old double barreled shotgun he carried. They had tried to rob him the day before I found him.  His name was Mel. I patched him up as best as I could and fed him that night. Me and the dogs stayed with him the next two days looking after him. Schultz, Major and Sarge seemed to like the old man and he took a fancy to them. One of them was constantly on guard beside him the time we were with him. After two days it was clear he wasn’t gonna’ live much longer. He gave me a map to the twin caves and told me that if I looked after his mule I could have what he had stashed in the twin caves. So that is how I discovered the twin caves one week later.”

“So Betty was this man’s mule?” asked Jane.

“Yep. Betty was his mule. He told me they had been prospecting together for five years. He wanted to be cremated so it took me a day to build a platform and get enough wood to take care of that. He didn’t want for the desert scavengers to eat his body and he was worried about Betty. Since I got Betty life got easier in the desert. The old man knew how to survive with style in this harsh environment. A mule might be slow but they can carry one hell of a load of supplies.”

“I can’t stand the suspense! What did you find in the twin caves?” asked Emily.

“The twin caves turned out to be where Mel was stashing his gold finds. There are bags of gold nuggets and gold dust in the cave. The old man found a lot of gold in his prospecting years.  I never bothered to weigh it and I haven’t touched it other than to look in some of the bags. Carrying a bunch of gold with you in this territory is a good way of getting yourself killed and a waste. You can’t eat or drink gold. I figured it was a good hideout to make my poison bombs plus having two caves gives you some security in case something goes wrong in the process. Amanda uses the caves to make her poison too.”

“So the Pale Rider has a map also?” asked Jane.

“No. I destroyed the map years ago.”

“Did you memorize it?” asked Lynn.

“Not really. Once I found it the Shepherds and Schultz can find their way through the boulder maze in a heartbeat. Schultz has peed on just about every other boulder. Once we got deeper in the maze the first time we went through the maze he got really nervous and started to pee on every boulder making his mark. He’s a smart dog. Being so low to the ground he aimed his pee to where it landed underneath the rounded boulders. A good dog will be able to follow that scent for years since it would not be washed away by any rain and it doesn’t rain often out here. I kept the map until my second trip. Zak gave me some special glasses and paint to mark the right passages. I didn’t need the map the second time. The dogs went through the maze without any hesitation. I marked the boulders on the second trip with the paint. Without the glasses you can’t see the arrows. Wearing the glasses you can easily find your way. Zak gave Amanda and Little Jimbo a pair of glasses. They told me weeks later they had no problem finding the twin caves. Zak started to send Ringo with some men to supply the caves with the chemicals we needed after that. I know Ringo has a pair of glasses. I doubt if anyone else has though, except for maybe Zak.”

“And nobody ever took any of the gold?” asked Lynn.

“What for? Besides, Zak is really superstitious about things like that, stealing from a dead man. I told him to take what he wanted but he said we might need the gold later to rebuild Nevada.”

“How much gold is there?” asked Emily.

Francis paused for a minute looking into the sky.

“I never really counted it but there must be two hundred or more large canvas bags that are full.”

“Good lord! Gold is worth thirty thousand government credits now days just for one ounce!” said Emily.

“It will be worth more than that once this war is over with,” said Francis.

He mounted Midnight.

“Lynn, tell Schultz to get out of his security bag and to go to work. Tell him find. I know that you know the command.”

Lynn reached down in her saddle bag and gently picked up the small dog. She cradled him in her arms like holding a baby and snuggled his head with her face.

“Schultz, suche,” she said.

The terrier righted himself in her arms and began to look around with his tail high in the air. Lynn stuck out her right foot as the two Shepherds ran to sit beside Butch. Their tails were wagging. For them it was play time and they knew to follow Schultz.

The small dog bounded off her foot and began to sniff at the base of the boulders lining the trail. Then he took off ahead of them zig zagging from boulder to boulder, both large and small.

The four scouts watched him for a moment.

“Good grief! You said he peed on every other boulder Francis! It certainly looks like he didn’t miss a one!” said Jane.

“Well, we have been up and down this trail a few times since then. I don’t keep track of things like that ladies. I guess he is getting the ones he missed right now.”

Francis reached in his saddle bags and produced an eyeglass case. He opened the case and held two pair of eyeglasses in his hands.

“I have three pairs but one of them is in one of Betty’s canvas bags. You girls can take turns wearing the glass. You will see what I have told you.”

“Give them to Jane and Emily. I have the dogs,” said Lynn as she spurred Butch heading up the hardpan trail following the pack.

Jane and Emily took the eyeglasses from Francis and placed them on their faces.

“Wow! You painted big enough arrows Francis!” exclaimed Emily while looking at a nearby boulder.

She took the glasses off.

“That’s amazing! You can’t see any arrow without the glasses!”

“Doc had our geeks make the glasses as well as the paint. He said you have to have a special type of glass to see the arrows.”

Emily put her eyeglasses back in place and proceeded to follow the pack. Jane followed behind her.

It was slow going in the maze following the dog pack. Schultz was stopping to urinate on boulders as he went. Francis and Lynn were riding side by side bringing up the three mules along with the one wheeled cart.

“Did you say this maze is three miles long?” asked Lynn.

“I reckon it is. I never really kept track. I know it takes a while to get through it.”

“I can see why if you were following Schultz! I just have a one question.”

“What is that baby?”

“Does he ever run out of pee?”

Francis laughed.

“I have never seen him do that. On up the trail where it narrows it becomes a group pee. The Shepherds start marking over the terrier’s trail. That will go on for five or so minutes until Schultz gets mad and makes a run at one of the big dogs to make them stop. Once he does that they stop.”

“I imagine so. You don’t want to piss off the alpha male.”

“No, I reckon you don’t.”

It took the scouts two hours to work their way through the maze of boulders following Schultz. As usual, no one was in any hurry. One advantage of being at a high elevation and the air being cold was there was a less threat of active rattlesnakes. If there were any, they were nestled underneath boulders trying to stay warm. Not one rattler was found by the dogs.

The scouts finally emerged from the maze and stopped at the base of a steep trail that was one hundred feet in length. The trail looked like it went to nowhere, stopping at the base of an extremely large boulder. The boulder looked solid but seemed to be perching precariously on the edge of ledge.

“That looks dangerous Francis!” said Jane.

“It looks like it could fall but I assure you that that big rock is part of the granite mountain. It ain’t going anywhere. When we get to the top of the trail go right like you are going around the boulder. In the rear out of sight is the entrance to the twin caves.”

“Will the cart make it?” asked Lynn.

“If it has one wheel it will. A four wheeled cart will slide down the incline smashing up on the boulders unless the cart is narrow as hell. The one wheeled cart will easily fit and the gyros will adjust to keep it balanced. If you are worried I will lead Cleopatra along the trail.”

“No, I have her. Let’s get moving,” said Lynn.

Fifteen minutes later the squadron was around the big boulder that wasn’t a boulder. They stopped in a small flat area behind the large rock that was attached to the mountain. In front of them were two cave openings that looked almost identical, at least their openings.

The three female scouts turned to view the mountainous terrain. All they could see were perpendicular rock walls.

“You sure as hell couldn’t see these caves from any trail! It’s hard to imagine anyone finding this place,” said Jane.

“We want to stay in the one on the right. I think the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo are here,” said Francis.

“How do you know that Francis?” asked Lynn.

“Because the pack ran in the right cave and they were wagging their tales. And I don’t hear any barking. Trust me, both of them are here. Those dogs are crazy about Amanda and Little Jimbo. Plus Jimbo always has a treat for them, usually those big Milk Bone dog biscuits.”

Jane and Emily entered the cave on the right, while Francis and Lynn followed. Once inside what Lynn saw caused her to catch her breathe. The interior of the cavern was more than what she expected. This was a large cavern with a small pool of water off to one side with a small waterfall four feet high.  Near the pond were two horses, one of them the large white stallion named Spooky that was wanted by the federal government. And just as Francis said, Amanda and Little Jimbo were inside petting the dogs.  The pack was happy to see the couple.

“I am glad to see you finally made it Francis! We were planning on getting out of here this morning but we heard you were in the area last night!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“Where did you hear that, Jimbo? Did Zak figure that out?” asked Francis as he dismounted Midnight.

“We were having dinner at the Grizzly Steak House last night when all the commotion broke out. We saw the block security guards running to Tom’s bar. Then we saw them taking out dead bodies on stretchers to their security headquarters. We didn’t know what the hell was going on until Marky came over to our table and told us some hunter was in the bar and killed seven bounty hunters. We still didn’t know who it was until he told us that the man had two German Shepherds, a black one and big brown one that killed two of the men. When we heard that we knew that you were somewhere nearby. You certainly had the town in an uproar for awhile, at least the bounty hunters that were partying in Rochester. There were three of them in the Grizzly Steak House when the bodies started to come out of Tom’s. Before we left we went next door to get a bottle of Jack to take with us. Tom and his hired help were trying to mop up all the blood off the wood floor. He told us that a hunter named Francis had killed the men because they tried to pick up his date,” said Amanda.

Then the Pale Rider giggled looking at Lynn.

“They recognized me. They knew I was a scout for Free America. How did you manage to go have supper next door and not get recognized?” asked Lynn.

“I will show you.”

Amanda walked over to a bag that was on the ground next to her saddle. She opened the bag and pulled a pair of women’s shoes, black slacks and a white blouse out of its interior.

“That’s how. Jimbo also has a pair of street shoes, slacks and a dress shirt. He also wears a jacket to hide his guns and a couple of small poison bombs. If you go into any of these towns in Nevada you have to dress the part of a local.”

“I see. Francis asked me out on a date. So I was the reason there was a fight.”

“Oh now! Don’t let that bother you! I found out the hard way too! That is no reason to not have fun! We are about the same size and I have an extra pair of shoes, a blouse and a pair of black slacks that should fit you. Plus I have an extra purse you can have! That way you and Francis can have some fun when you get the opportunity.”

“I won’t need a purse, would I?” asked Lynn.

Amanda took out a small purse out of the bag. It was solid black. Reaching inside she pulled out one of her automatic Colts that she was known to use and carry, twirling the weapon in her hand.

“That is why I carry a purse when Jimbo and I go on a date. Without my Colt I feel naked. I also have a couple of clips in the purse.”

Jane and Emily were laughing their heads off. They had seen the Pale Rider in action before.

Lynn started laughing too. She was starting to like the Pale Rider…a lot.

“Are you sure about sparing your clothes?”

“Sure. Ask Janie and Emily. They used to carry some street clothes and probably still do although they rarely get asked out on dates except for maybe the old man.  Us scout sisters have to stay together. Zak told me about what happened at the Javier ranch. You ladies and Francis did well. What happened to Javier?”

“We took him down the trail for a little while but he turned out to be a drag,” said Lynn.

Jane and Emily laughed.

“He’s dead, Amanda. Doc and Janie killed him!” exclaimed Emily.

“Good. I never liked that little slime ball a bit. His sorry brother was in the Grizzly Steak House eating when you killed those bounty hunters last night.”

“Pedro?”

“Yep. He didn’t seem upset about the killings. It was business as usual in Rochester. We heard you killed seven. Is that true?”

“Actually, I killed five. Major and Sarge took care of two. And give Schultz two assists. He went and got the two Shepherds after I killed the first four bounty hunters.”

“I’m sorry your first date with Francis was ruined Lynn,” said Amanda.

“It wasn’t ruined! Thinking about last night, I had a lovely time. I can certainly say my first date with a member of the opposite sex is one that I will certainly remember for the rest of my life. It was exciting to say the least. And we stayed for awhile at Tom’s bar and had some shots of Jack Daniels before we left.”

“You guys didn’t haul ass after the killing?” asked Little Jimbo.

Lynn laughed.

“Are you kidding? Francis never gets in a hurry. There were four people in Tom’s sitting at two tables. They didn’t move while the dogs were there. We stayed and chugged some shots, made some small talk with Tom.  Francis paid the tab, tipped Tom very well with Javier’s government credit card and then we walked out the rear door. Thinking about it, it will be hard to top that first date but I am willing to go out with Francis again. Now that I have the proper attire I plan on going on a second date with Francis. He certainly is an entertaining date.”

Amanda looked at Francis with a sly smile on her face.

“I bet.”

“This cave has a lot more than I expected so high up in these mountains. There are cots, tables and chairs, and I see there is a wood burning stove with a pile of firewood. How long did it take to equip this place?” asked Jane.

“It took Ringo three trips to get things up here initially. He had twenty or thirty men with him including Doc and his cart. Since then there have been more trips. We don’t need much because we don’t stay long, do we Amanda?” asked Little Jimbo.

“No. It takes two days to make the poison that will kill you on contact. The lesser poisons can be cooked in an hour or two. Building the casing for the bombs takes longer and implementing some of the fancy fuses can take some time but other than that you can be in and out of here in two days and two nights. When was the last time you were here Francis?”

“I reckon it was eight weeks ago. I have been busy.”

“When was the last time you were here, Amanda?” asked Lynn.

“How long ago was it Jimbo?”

“It’s been awhile. We have been down the trail to swing through Texas and come back across the Rockies by Denver. We went by to see Eric’s grave on the way here.”

The scouts became silent.

“Eric? Who was Eric?” asked Lynn.

“He was my first partner. He was a brave scout for Free America. He was killed by one of our poison bombs. He sacrificed his life to save mine,” said Amanda softly.

“I’m sorry Amanda. I didn’t know,” said Lynn.

“There is no apology necessary Night Ranger. We probably all are going to buy the farm in this war. I just want to cash in as many of the enemy as I can before they get me. From what I have heard about you, you are off to a good start for a rookie scout. And you are riding with three good people…at least for now. That is the hardest thing in the world, finding a good partner.”

“Well, what is there too eat around here?” asked Jane.

“I am glad you asked! After we found out that you guys were around, Jimbo ordered eight to go orders last night and a couple of six packs of Pepsi to take with us. We figured you guys would show up hungry and I didn’t feel like cooking tonight.”

Amanda held up a large brown paper sack that was filled with Styrofoam containers. Schultz was sitting at her feet and started to jump up and down and whine.

“Oh, what is wrong with you Schultz? Are you hungry too?” she asked.

“Schultz, handeln!” said Lynn.

“What does that mean?” asked Amanda.

“That means behave,” replied Lynn.

Amanda turned and focused her attention on the little dog.

“Oh, you poor sweet baby! Little Jimbo remembered the pack. He has something for you and your two big friends.”

Little Jimbo reached down beside his saddle on the ground.

“Can I feed your dogs Francis? We got them something special last night,” said Little Jimbo.

“Sure. Go ahead. Those three are becoming spoiled brats. All three of them will just about eat anything that doesn’t eat them first.”

“Oh this ain’t just anything,” said Little Jimbo.

Little Jimbo opened his brown sack and all three dogs quickly moved to sit in front of him…waiting.

He placed the three containers on the ground, placing one Styrofoam container in front of each animal. He opened the lids to reveal large porterhouse steaks. The steaks barely fit in the containers. The three dogs sat in front of the containers but didn’t eat them. All three started to slobber with Schultz whining loudly.

“Francis! Quit teasing them!” said Lynn.

“You tell them baby.”

“Schultz, Major, Sarge…essen!”

The three dogs pounced on the porterhouse steaks and began to eat. All six of the scouts laughed watching the animals tear into the food.

“You have them well trained Francis,” said Little Jimbo.

“They mind most of the time. The little one thinks he is the boss sometimes.”

“Well, let’s eat because I’m starving,” said Jane.

For the next two hours the friends had a good dinner, enjoying each others company and friendship. This was a rare moment in time for the six friends.

* * * * *

Chapter Fourteen

Pimping Ain’t Easy

Francis and his squadron spent the next two days and two nights in the twin caves. The morning after the impromptu dinner with the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo in the cave with the living quarters, the two scouts left, saying they were making the long journey to upper Texas to cause trouble using the Javier Trail to get across upper central Nevada and then swinging south using the Great Basin Trail. The Great Basin Trail was known as a long trail to be avoided by the ten man Hussein Guard patrols. That trail was a known hangout of the Pale Rider.

This night Francis was relaxing by the campfire in the cavern thinking about the trip to the FEMA Camp 43 area that was on his schedule for tomorrow. He had been busy making his poison packs and miscellaneous bombs. He was also teaching the Night Ranger the secrets of the trade which didn’t slow him down. He discovered that she had learned her lessons well from old Doc when it came to the basics and she followed instructions well.

Jane and Emily had no desire to deal with the deadly chemicals that were involved in the process of creating deadly poisons but the Night Ranger was eager to learn. She made notes while observing what Francis did and learned quickly concerning how to stay alive while cooking the various concoctions and constructing the deadly bombs. By the second day she was making the deadly bombs herself and was customizing what she perceived she would need in the field. Francis had stressed that fact during her training. His poison and explosive bombs were different from the Pale Rider’s bombs and Lynn’s would be different as well.

The next door cave was well equipped with all the necessary components for a chemist to stay safe. Zak and Ringo had seen to that and spared no expense when it came to equipping the surprisingly modern laboratory. The old man, Zak, knew what he was doing waging this war.

“Tomorrow we will be leaving this area and we won’t be back for a while. At least speaking for myself, I am not planning on coming here for a while. I was wondering if you ladies would like to go to town and have dinner at the Grizzly Steak House tonight as my guests.  I just checked on Javier’s government card and it is still good with a big balance. Zak hasn’t been going crazy with the card since we killed Javier so I was thinking about taking my friends to town tonight.”

“We can’t leave the mules and dogs here unattended!” said Jane.

“Sure we can. No one will find this place plus I will activate a booby trap or two down the trail when we leave if you are worried about that.”

The three women looked at each other uneasily. Finally Emily spoke.

“That’s kind of risky don’t you think? You know the mutts might try to follow us. They might accidentally set off one of your booby traps.”

“I don’t think so. They know when I mean business when I tell them to stay. At least the Shepherds do. Schultz is low enough to the ground to slip under my laser trip wires if the little shit doesn’t mind.”

“And you don’t think that brat doesn’t know that?” said Lynn laughing.

“Do you think it will be safe after what just happened a couple of nights ago? You and Lynn go to town to buy some booze and wind up killing seven men. Don’t you think somebody is looking for you?” argued Emily.

“Nope. In that town no one cares. Somebody gets hurt there real bad, at least towards every weekend. Usually that involves drunken miners, bounty hunters, tramps and curious strangers like gamblers that don’t know what they are getting with a visit to Rochester. There isn’t any law to worry about as long as you don’t kill a government big wig because nobody cares. You won’t find any government big wigs in Rochester, ladies. Those goons are too worried about their status with the federal government. Plus, I will take a couple of healthy gold nuggets with me from Mel’s stash in case there is an unseen problem with Javier’s card to pay for the meal. I just thought I would be nice and treat you ladies to a nice dinner with plates, silverware and the whole nine yards. We know they have porterhouse steaks in stock. You know, just because we are scouts fighting for our freedom doesn’t mean we have to be running around acting like hermits out in the Nevada wilderness  There won’t be any bounty hunters in that place that will be eating in the Grizzly Steak House. It costs too much to eat there. What do you say?”

“So if you do find a bounty hunter eating in this place that means he has recently collected a bounty! Right?” asked Jane.

“I never thought about it but I reckon so. There are not many successful bounty hunters out here in this part of Nevada. These mountains are where me and the boys prowl,” said Francis softly.

“I don’t want to leave our stuff unattended and me running around with my arm in a sling will attract attention,” said Emily.

“Em has a point about that Francis. You showing up with three women might attract some attention. Maybe you and Lynn should go,” said Jane.

“I ain’t going unless you girls go.  What we have done these past few days couldn’t have been done without the both of you,” said Lynn.

“Good lord! Women! I was trying to be nice and say thanks for helping out these past few days! Now we have a Zak meeting!” exclaimed Francis.

The three female scouts were quiet for a long moment. Finally Jane spoke.

“All right! I will go! Em can stay here and watch the place as long as a couple of the dogs stay here to watch the place with her.”

“We will need one of them to watch our horses in Tom’s barn,” said Lynn.

“That is true. I will have Schultz and Major stay here to guard the twin caves along with Emily. We will take Sarge with us. He is jet black and can’t be seen in Tom’s barn. It won’t take us long to have dinner. It should just take us an hour. I ain’t planning on walking around town visiting casinos or any of the whore houses, ladies. We will go around Tom’s place so he won’t know we are in town. I just wanted to go into town, have a nice dinner with my friends and get some takeout food. I thought you ladies would like that.”

“That is sweet of you Francis. I’m up for it. I just need to change into my street clothes and maybe slap some makeup on,” said Jane.

“You have makeup?” asked Lynn.

“Sure! I have a few things like lip gloss and powder. Don’t you?”

“Well…no!” exclaimed Lynn.

“You are so pretty and have such nice skin you don’t need make up but you certainly can use what I have! Let’s get ready to go! It should be fun!”

The two female scouts jumped off their chairs and went to Jane’s saddle bags lying on the cavern floor.

“You sure you don’t want to go Em? I would really like for you to go with us. It will be a fun time,” said Francis.

“Well, I sort of want to go but if there is trouble I won’t be of much help.”

Francis rose from his chair and extended his hand. Emily took it and stood up.

“Go put some makeup on and get ready to go. And quit being hard headed. No one will bother the twin caves while we are gone. These caves have existed alone for the majority of time for the last three years and since the beginning of time. Go get ready and don’t worry about your sling.”

Emily nodded and walked over to join Lynn and Jane. Soon all three women were laughing and hugging each other. While they changed their clothes Francis went to his canvas bags that Betty usually toted and rummaged around for a long while. Soon, he had located his street clothes and shoes. It took him ten minutes to take his gun belts off and change into his civilian clothes. Rummaging around in the canvas bag for another minute more he found what he was looking for. In the bottom of the bag was an Old Spice bottle of men’s cologne. He removed the lid and splashed it on his cheeks.

The three dogs were sitting beside him and soon started to sniff his body.

“Don’t you get any stupid ideas Schultz,” he growled.

The terrier quickly left to join the three ladies. Soon Francis had his blazer on along with four of his Colt holsters. Looking at him, a person could see no guns. Soon his three female scouts were standing in front of him.

“How do we look?” asked Lynn.

He looked at all three intently. He realized that the brunette, redhead and blonde were by all standards, gorgeous women.

“Wow! You girls look…hot!”

“Hot? What does that mean?” asked Jane.

“You all three look fantastic! Those blouses and slacks fit all three of you…tight. And in all the right places I might add.”

“Good! We don’t want to look like scouts do we?” asked Emily.

“You girls certainly don’t look like any scout I have ever seen on the trail. Are we ready to ride?”

“Let’s go!” said Lynn, starting to get excited.

“Are you girls carrying?” asked Francis.

All three women held up black purses and grinned.

“Amanda told us not to go anywhere naked,” said Jane.

The four scouts mounted their rides and along with the dog pack exited the cave. At the entrance Francis dismounted and set several of his special devices on selected boulders and two on the ground at the entrance to the cave.

“What are those for Francis? I thought you said the caves are isolated,” said Lynn.

“They are isolated when it comes to two legged critters lover but not for critters like mountain lions. I don’t want to come back here and find any of the mules have been killed by a predator. Those are nail bombs and poison discharge modules. Those nail bombs can go off several times and are motion sensitive. Once we get down the trail I can remotely activate them. I am just playing it safe and it only takes a minute. We don’t want anything happening to our mules.”

He mounted Midnight and headed down the trail with the three ladies following close behind. The pack had already headed through the maze, waiting for their master at strategic turns. Francis lifted a black box over his head and pushed a button on the side of the metal box once he and his girls exited the maze. He then placed the metal box back in his blazer pocket. He then reached into his breast pocket and retrieved one of his thin cigars. He lit the smoke and handed it to Lynn playing the role of the perfect gentleman. Then he retrieved another cigar and lit that one.

One hour and forty minutes later the four scouts were being seated inside the Grizzly Steak House.

“Wow! This is pretty ritzy place!” said Emily looking around.

“It is nice! I am surprised! It is also clean!” exclaimed Lynn.

They placed their orders with the waiter, who was wearing a tuxedo and were enjoying their Jack Daniels and cold Pepsi’s, with ice.

“This place is packed and everybody is dressed well!” said Jane.

“It is a popular place for people who have the money to eat while visiting this shit hole of a town,” said Francis.

Soon a well dressed man of Hispanic descent approached their table.

“Don’t I know you? Didn’t I meet you at my brother’s ranch a couple of times but I don’t remember your name! I am Pedro, the owner of this establishment!” he said with a broad smile.

Francis stood up and shook his hand.

“Yes, I remember you. My name is Francis. How has your brother been?”

“I am not sure. I have not been able to get in contact with him the past two weeks but that is good! You were…a hunter? Prospector?”

“I am both Pedro.”

The female scouts were acting calm but Francis could tell they were getting a little edgy.

“And who are these beautiful women? On what block did you find them in this town?”

“They don’t work in Rochester. They are from Las Vegas here to visit me.”

Pedro went around to each of the ladies kissing the back of their hands.

“Eh? You must have found a lot of gold to have such beautiful women at your side. Do they work for you?”

Lynn, Emily and Jane continued to smile which was now making Francis nervous.

“You could say that.”

“Oh you sly dog! I came over here to speak with you. Do you see that well dressed man in the corner of the room by the big window?”

Francis turned to see a well dressed, middle aged man sitting by himself at a table in the corner of the large dining room

“I don’t believe I know him. I have never seen him before.”

Pedro laughed heartily.

“I can understand that! He is the warden of FEMA Camp 43! You wouldn’t know him unless you were an inmate Francis!”

Francis let a frown creep across his handsome face for a brief moment. He began to focus on the warden, which now started to make his three female scouts nervous.

“So what is the point of this conversation Pedro? I am about to eat dinner with my friends and I don’t have the time.”

“The point is, Warden Nelson would like to hire your redheaded friend for an hour or two.”

Jane heard Pedro’s comment but somehow, managed to keep her cool after Francis gave her a wink.

“He does, does he? I can see why. She is a fine redheaded woman. My girls are busy tonight, with me. They are not available, not for tonight.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean tonight my friend. The warden is married and usually comes back tomorrow night after he picks out the lady he wants to spend some time with. We are talking tomorrow night. He really likes your redheaded lady friend and would like to visit with her. He might be interested in hiring all three of them actually. He instructed me to tell you to name your price, for the redhead alone and for all three for three hours of their time. We want to keep Warden Nelson happy amigo. It is wise to have him as a friend in this territory.”

Francis looked at Lynn and she winked back. Then she nodded her head and grinned.

“These are special women Pedro. Tell him one hundred ounces of silver to be left in the room when the girls show up. We certainly want to be friends with him. Tell him these ladies will give him a night he will remember for the rest of his life. I will guarantee him that.”

Pedro patted Francis on his back. He was happy, very happy.

“This is very good news Francis! I will tell him right now!”

“Good. Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom but I will be right back Pedro.”

The three female scouts stayed at the table while Pedro and Francis left.

“Can you believe this? Those two assholes think we are whores and they think Francis is our pimp!” hissed Jane.

“I don’t know what Francis is up to but he sure seems like he has done this before!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Just stay cool. Francis is up to something,” added Emily.

Francis was gone for less than a minute and then returned to the table. He sat down waiting for Pedro to return and once again winked at Lynn.

“Where did you go?” asked Lynn.

“I went to the front desk to reserve a room for tomorrow night from nine to midnight. Just stay cool and follow my lead. Then we eat. This is what I call divine intervention girls. God has personally delivered the warden to me. It couldn’t get any better than this.”

Pedro returned.

“Warden Nelson has agreed to your price as long as that includes all three of your beautiful ladies Francis.”

Francis stood up and shook Pedro’s hand.

“It does. I have already paid for the room in your fine establishment. It is room one oh four from nine until midnight tomorrow night. I expect to be reimbursed tomorrow for the room when I get my one hundred ounces of silver. My three girls will have the good Warden Nelson knocked out within one hour but I paid for three hours anyway. We will find out if he is a man or not!”

Pedro laughed and Francis laughed with him.

“Good, good. They look like they could give a man a good workout!”

“Oh believe me, they can.”

“Enjoy your dinner Francis. It is on the house!”

“There is one more thing Pedro. Could I get three of these dinners to go? Later on tonight, my girls might get a little hungry and I want them to be ready for tomorrow night.”

“That will be no problem my friend. I will have the waiter take care of you right now! See you tomorrow night Francis! Ladies,” he said bowing.

Then he turned and left.

“Enjoy the free meal girls,” said Francis.

“I don’t feel hungry now,” said Emily.

“Hey, the warden wanted you too, miss I don’t think I look good with my arm in a sling.”

“I don’t think the good warden is interested in Em’s arm Francis,” said Jane.

Francis laughed and started to eat.

“Damn good porterhouse ladies. After tomorrow night we are going to have to make another side trip to the box canyon and meet Doc again. At this rate I am never gonna’ make it to FEMA Camp 43.”

“I don’t know about that lover. Kidnapping and killing the head man to that place is a pretty good start,” said Lynn.

“Why did you leave? To pay for the room?” asked Jane.

“That and to select the right room instead of leaving that up to them. I rushed out to the alley to take a quick look. That room has the fire escape outside the rear window. It leads down to the alley. I have a plan that will give us plenty of time to get away with the warden.”

“Both of those slime balls think we’re hookers!” said Jane.

“Hey, I told you before we left that all three of you ladies were gorgeous. Don’t blame this on me because you ladies look so… desirable!”

Then he laughed. His three female friends were not laughing but they didn’t seem angry either.

* * * * *

The following night arrived quickly.

“I am starting to get a little nervous about this Francis!” said Emily.

“We don’t have to do this Em if you don’t want to,” replied Francis.

“No. I mean like excited! I think this might be…a different experience. It is a lot different than going out and shooting up Homeland Security patrols.”

“Oh, it’s going to be different all right. Let’s go over the plan once again. When I escort you three girls to the room they will have a couple of goons pat you down looking for weapons, maybe.”

“How do you know that is going to happen, Francis? Have you done something like this before?” asked Lynn with a suspicious tone in her voice.

“No baby, I have not. It is just common sense in a lawless town. Most hookers carry some type of defensive weapon, usually a knife. They are planning on getting rid of me tonight and keep you girls to work for them in one of those whorehouses. That double cross behavior runs in Pedro’s family.”

“So when the pat down happens is when all hell breaks loose?” asked Jane.

“It depends on whether the warden is in the room. I will insist on staying until the john shows up. Pedro is scared shitless of the warden. He doesn’t want him to party with three unhappy hookers. After I get paid is when the warden will come into the room to shake my hand if he is not in the room already when we arrive. When that happens is when all hell will break loose. Just be ready to move out that rear window, down the fire escape and to the stable with the good warden.”

“Are you going to carry the warden down that rickety fire escape?”

“That depends if he is willing to walk or not. If not he’s going over the rail unconscious. It is only fifteen feet to the ground. I don’t think the fall will kill him. We will have to get on the horses fairly quickly but we don’t gallop out of town. The wind is blowing in our favor so the fires will be spreading away from us. Anyone have any questions?”

“I have one. What did Zak think about this plan and what fires?” asked Jane.

“He thought well of it and don’t worry about the fires. You will find out later,” answered Francis.

“Yeah, right. This sounds like one of Zak’s wing it plans,” said Lynn.

“Let’s get moving. I want to get to Rochester a little early to give me time to plant my incendiary bombs.”

One hour and forty five minutes later the squad, along with Justine pulling the one wheel gyro cart and the dog pack were nestled in Tom’s dark barn. The light Francis disabled the night before was still unlit.

“I will be back in fifteen minutes,” he said as he dismounted Midnight while in the dark stable.

Lynn dismounted Butch and went to the barn door, watching Francis amble casually down the alley for two blocks or more. She didn’t see a soul in the dark alley other than Francis and Sarge, who were moving from black shadow to black shadow, staying out of any light that was shining from any window.

Francis and the black dog returned. He held out his arm.

“Time for my ladies to go to work,” he said with a grin.

“Major, Sarge, Schultz, schaffner!” said Lynn firmly.

The three dogs sat down in the dark near the mule and the horses.

“I hope they stay put,” she said.

“They will. They mind you better than they mind me now days,” answered Francis.

It was nine o’clock on a large, elaborate clock mounted on the stairwell wall when Francis followed his three ladies up the wooden stairs. The four scouts proceeded to the door marked one oh four.

“Well, you were wrong about the pat down,” said Lynn.

Lynn opened the door followed by Emily and Jane. Inside the room was Warden Nelson, sitting in a high backed red velvet chair along with Pedro and two of his big security goons.

The warden had a big goofy grin on his face.

“It is nice to deal with a man who is timely Francis. Here is your payment. It is more than I wanted to pay but Warden Nelson wants no trouble and he has paid a premium price for your ladies. He insisted on this payment. Your services in this town are no longer needed.”

Pedro handed a small canvas sack to Francis.

“What is this?” asked Francis.

“In that canvas bag are one hundred one ounce gold coins in exchange for your beautiful women. You may leave now. The ladies now work for me. They are my property, not yours. I don’t want any trouble Francis!” he warned.

Francis paused for a moment. The air in the hotel room grew tense.

“That is a good deal for me Pedro. It has been a pleasure doing business with you.”

As Francis started to turn for the exit door the female scouts displayed for the two security goons and Pedro what they had learned in scout school when it came to hand to hand combat. These ladies were not your average run of the mill ladies of the night. In less than one second Pedro’s two goons were holding their bellies trying to keep their internal organs within their bodies. As the nearest security man standing behind Lynn fell to his knees, Francis saw a large knife sticking in the left side of his neck. The large point of the knife was sticking out of the right side of his muscular neck. The big security man was gagging and spurting blood out of his mouth. The second security man was already lying in the floor not making a sound. Emily had cut his throat from ear to ear. The cut was so deep he could not possible yell for help.

Lynn quickly had an arm wrapped around Pedro’s neck with another large scout knife pressed hard against his throat. She hadn’t cut him deep but he was starting to trickle blood beneath the knife. Francis produced one of his Colts with a silencer in an instant and advanced towards the sitting warden who had a look of surprise and fear on his face.

Everything happened quickly.

“Make one sound and you are dead Warden Nelson. There is nothing more in this life that I would like to do right now than shoot you right between the eyes,” said Francis calmly with his gruff, low voice.

Francis walked up to the warden and placed his forty five Colt on the bridge of the trembling man’s nose.

Suddenly all four of the Free America scouts heard something whine. Looking at the corner of the big luxury room they saw a good sized box with holes in its side.

Lynn slung Pedro around with the knife still to his neck. Once in front of the warden she tripped the Hispanic man to where he slammed face down on the carpeted floor, hard. Blood started to spurt from Pedro’s broken nose and the Mexican knew not to yell or make a sound from the impact.

“You wanted to kill this piece of shit didn’t you Francis?” she asked standing over the prone man on the floor.

Pedro was starting to cry, sniveling and saying words in Spanish.

“Shut the hell up you piece of shit!” hissed Lynn placing the point of her Bowie knife on the back of the neck of the Grizzly Steak House’s owner, pressing the blade downward to produce a small trickle of blood.

“Hold on a second Lynn! Don’t kill him…yet.  Here Janie, take this Colt and lock the door. I don’t think anyone heard the commotion. What the hell is in the box?” asked Francis

He walked over to the box and lifted it to rest on the king sized bed. Inside, while looking through the cage door, he could see a Jack Russell terrier cowering in the back of the box. Emily kept a gun on Pedro and the warden while Lynn moved to stand beside Francis placing her knife back in the holster strapped to the front of her waist under her blouse. She too, peered into the cage to see a small dog cowered in the back.

“What did that fucker have in mind, bringing a dog to the room?” she asked.

Lynn looked on the side of the animal carrier and crudely scrawled with a magic marker was the name Mitzi.

“The poor thing is scared to death,” she said.

“Whose dog is this?” asked Francis.

The warden was frozen with fear. Francis bent over and rolled Pedro over. He stuck his Colt with the attached silencer to Pedro’s chest.

“I asked a question asshole.”

“It’s the warden’s pet! He takes it with him everywhere he goes!  The dog was in the restaurant last night! I have never seen him without it. It is his prized pet. It has papers and everything!” said Pedro loudly.

Francis discharged his Colt at point blank range into Pedro’s chest. The Mexican went limp as the blood continued to ooze out of his nose.

“Too loud of an answer, dick head,” said Francis in his usual low gruff voice.

He turned his attention to Warden Nelson.

“You have a choice warden. That is more than you have done for any patriot. Either you can follow directions or I will kill you where you sit in that fancy chair. Understand?” asked Francis.

The warden nodded his head yes.

“Holy shit! Look at all those fancy clothes hanging in the closet!” said Jane looking at the closet in the room.

“Jane! Get a grip! We need to get out of here now!” hissed Francis.

“Can I take some of those clothes with us Francis? Please? We can keep them in the caves for the next time we go out on a date!”

Francis sighed and shook his head back and forth.

“Women! Okay, you can grab a couple of hangars but hurry up! We don’t need to be pressing our luck!”

On the floor in the closet was a laundry bag. Jane and Emily both began to shove clothes as well as shoes into the bag. It took them less than a minute. Lynn was peering out the rear window during the delay looking down on the alley.

“We might have some trouble using the fire escape! I see one of Pedro’s goons at the bottom of the stairs. He’s not carrying a rifle but you know he most likely has a hand gun.”

Francis walked over to the window and looked out.

“Yeah, it looks like Pedro didn’t want any one playing peeping Tom on the warden. It’s no big deal. I will take care of it.”

Francis picked up the dog whistle he always wore around his neck. He blew on the whistle three times with short blasts of wind and then one long one. Then he turned and started to bind the warden’s hands behind his back with some electrical cord from a nearby lamp.

“Let me know when they are through Lynn.”

“Let you know when who is through?”

“Who do you think? Our dogs! Just keep watching the alley and let me know.”

Lynn turned to gaze down on the dimly lit alley.

Soon she saw Schultz exit the barn as if on a casual midnight prowl. The guard at the bottom of the fire escape was watching the small dog intently. Then the guard knelt down to call the animal as if he wanted to pet him. As Schultz approached the security guard he suddenly sidestepped the man’s outreached arm and lifted his leg. It was a quick hit and run pee.

The man started to curse and yell while Schultz bolted to Tom’s barn. Schultz stopped several times and started again on the way to the barn, baiting the security guard to follow him. The little dog knew what he was doing. Pedro’s security man ran into the barn crossing the alleyway cursing and yelling. Lynn did not hear another sound. Twenty seconds later she heard one sharp bark. Looking down she saw Schultz just outside the entrance to the barn. The terrier was looking up at the second floor window, then he turned and trotted back into the dark interior of Tom’s stable.

“I will be damned! You have trained them with a dog whistle too?”

Francis lifted the warden to his feet, looked at Lynn and nodded his head.

“You thought you knew everything about me didn’t you?” he asked.

“I thought I did. I reckon I don’t.”

“You two through clothes shopping?” he asked turning to Jane and Emily who had big smiles on their faces.

Jane was carrying a stuffed laundry bag.

They both nodded their heads yes without saying a word.

Francis opened the window and Lynn led the way. Before leaving she grabbed the cage with the small dog.

Two minutes later they were walking into the stable. Lynn looked to see the security man lying on the ground, not moving. The two German Shepherds were wagging their tails, happy to see everyone. Francis secured the gagged and bound warden to the surface of the one wheeled cart and mounted Midnight. He also fastened the dog cage to the wardens body.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad. Here’s your pay for your services Janie!” he said tossing the canvas bag Pedro had given him earlier to Jane.

She caught the bag with one hand.

“You know I think I will keep this as a souvenir or what the hell. You never know when me, Em and Lynn might go shopping again one of these days.”

The small squadron moved into the alley and headed out of town. When they were a hundred yards from the main entrance of Rochester, Francis pulled out one of his magic electronic black boxes.

“The feds will never know what happened to the warden,” he said as he pushed a red button.

Immediately numerous explosions reverberated in the air. Within one minute flames a hundred feet high were rising in the dark Nevada sky in the front part of Rochester on the west side of the two main streets.

“Good grief Francis! What did you use?” asked Lynn.

They all turned to view the fire as the horses headed up the trail to the twin caves.

“I used their propane tanks that were resting behind each wood building. They will be lucky if they can keep the town from burning to the ground. The dumb asses never established a fire department. It’s too bad. I really enjoyed Rochester tonight.”

Lynn watched for a long moment continuing to ride looking over her shoulder.

“I would hate to see what you would do to a town you didn’t like.”

Chapter Fifteen

Seat of Faith

It was the morning after Francis and his three female scouts had visited the wild frontier town known as Rochester. The three female scouts were awakened by the short beeps of their notebook computers sounding in their tents. Francis was standing guard in the entrance of the twin caves. Sarge and Major were standing guard watching over Warden Nelson for the early part of the morning. From his vantage point of the twin caves, Francis could see the large wide columns of black smoke still rising into the Nevada sky from Rochester. The small town was still burning.

“Would somebody get up and answer that call?” yelled Francis from the entrance.

Lynn groggily awoke and lifted the cover to her notebook computer. She was half asleep and barely awake. She was barely dressed for that matter. She had been up late with Francis during the night celebrating their dinner date in Rochester.

“Hello?” she said while still half asleep.

On the screen was the leader of the Free America movement, the old man, Zak.

“Night Ranger! It is great to see that you are on duty although you look like shit this morning!” he exclaimed.

Lynn rubbed her face to get the sleep out of her eyes.

“What time is it Zak?” she asked.

“It’s five in the morning, the usual time everyone goes on duty!” he said loudly through the tiny speakers on the notebook computer.

“Swell. What do you want Zak?”

“Where is Francis?”

“He’s nearby, I am sure. Why the early wake up call?”

“Oh, no real reason. Well, to be honest with you there is a reason. This morning and throughout the night on the government news channels the feds are televising the devastation in Rochester, blaming it on Free America and her terrorist scouts. CNN is televising the images live at this moment from a helicopter. That little fucker with the crappy beard is reporting that half the town has burned to the ground and ten thousand people have died in the fire. I just pinged your location and since you guys are right nearby I was wondering if you or Francis knows anything about this, since you are in area? Did somebody yank Francis’ chain last night?”

“It is news to me Zak. And the only one who yank’s Francis’ chain now days is me, old man. You got that? Do you want to speak with Francis? He is on guard duty at the entrance to the twin caves,” replied Lynn.

“Sure. Put him on line.”

“I will have him get in contact with you after I get dressed.”

Schultz inadvertently barked in the background. Zak heard the bark and knew that wherever Francis was to be found the small dog was always nearby. Zak realized that Lynn was in Francis’ tent.

“Are you two spending the night together Night Ranger?”

Lynn frowned at the small video camera in her notebook computer. Zak’s prying comment pissed her off.

“That is none of your business old man! Have I ever asked you who you spend the night with? Who are you fucking now days, that is, if you can still fuck?” she asked.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to strike a nerve! Exxxxcuuusssse me! Just have Francis give me a call, will you?”

“I will tell him when I see him you sorry ass mother fu…”

The computer transmission went dead.

“Stupid shit! He beat me to the punch on that one, Schultz,” muttered Lynn to no one in particular other than the little dog as she closed the lid to her notebook computer.

Schultz was lying in the tent at her feet. His ears were standing straight up and he was watching the angry young female scout. The little dog was acting nervous.

“Don’t worry Schultz, I wasn’t talking to you. Come here baby.”

The Jack Russell terrier rose to his feet and quickly moved to snuggle next to Lynn’s body.

“Just give me ten more minutes,” she said softly lying back down in her sleeping bag with her right arm embracing the small dog.

Then she drifted off to sleep.

Eleven minutes later the notebooks started to beep softly once again. Francis arose from the boulder he was sitting on at the entrance to the twin caves and moseyed over to one of his saddle bags lying on the cavern floor. He looked over to where Warden Nelson was sleeping on the ground with his hands bound behind his back and his legs tied together before picking up his black notebook computer. Sarge and Major were resting on the cavern floor less than ten feet away keeping a watchful eye on the warden.

Francis then sat down on his boulder and opened the lid to the computer. He was surprised to see the Pale Rider’s face on screen.

“Well, well, I thought it was Zak calling back. It is nice to hear from you Amanda. That rarely happens. Is everything okay?” asked Francis.

“Things are just fine this morning, Francis. It is the usual crap, killing Hussein Guard patrols. I think I know why Zak is calling you so early in the morning today. So that fire me and Little Jimbo saw in the night sky last night was your doing wasn’t it? I told Little Jimbo that that fire looked like it might be Rochester. And with Zak calling you this morning I must be right. What did you do Francis? Burn down the town last night? You took the girls to the Grizzly Steak House last night, didn’t you? You know it is getting to where we can’t take you anywhere, anymore.”

The Pale Rider had a grin on her face a mile wide. She knew Francis well. She had spent a lot of time with the young man when he first arrived at the Secondary Base teaching him how to brew the poisons he now used as well as the explosives.

Francis avoided answering the question. It was the nature of the man.

“Where are you guys at?”

“Oh, I reckon we are around forty to fifty miles away from the Twin Caves following the Javier trail. It is now the stinky trail. We have been coming across a lot dead decaying bodies and stinky horses the last two days. Some of them are your work because we didn’t find any bullet holes in the corpses.”

“Did you guys run across that one thousand man dispatch coming from Las Vegas?”

“I think we might have run across a hundred and fifty of them. I am pretty sure Doc and his boys or maybe Scott and his boys ran across them first. We ain’t sure which group of scouts and I ain’t talked to anyone on the computer, except you. We found a ton of dead Hussein Guard bodies sixty miles away from the Javier ranch stinking up the place along with a few dead horses. They all had been shot and there were no weapons on their bodies but you could have had your pick of saddles.”

“It must have been Doc and Ringo’s guys. Scott’s guys would have grabbed the saddles. They need saddles for all the horses they just acquired.”

“So why did you burn Rochester?” persisted Amanda.

“I will show you,” he said temporarily turning his notebook computer in the direction of the warden lying on the floor.

Then he turned the notebook back.

“Who is that?” asked the Pale Rider.

“That my dear, is the warden for FEMA Camp 43.”

Amanda started laughing.

“No shit! That is unbelievable! I don’t know his name but his place has a bad reputation. How did you manage that?”

“He was whoring around in Rochester the last two nights. He picked the wrong girl last night. Actually, he picked the wrong girls last night. He wanted to romp with the Night Ranger, Calamity Jane and the Black widow at the same time.”

Now Amanda was laughing hard. Francis could hear Little Jimbo laughing off screen.

“Oh my God! Now this is funny! He’s lucky to be alive! They put on those street clothes and you took them to Rochester didn’t you? You should have known better! Those three girls are lookers! All three could make a damn good wage in Rochester!”

“I set the fires to cover up the warden’s abduction. When the place was going up in flames we slipped away unnoticed to the twin caves. The whole town was a tinderbox anyway. Do you have any idea why Zak is so eager to get in touch?”

“I cruised the government net this morning. The government news channels are reporting more than ten thousand citizens died in the fire and they are blaming it on Free America terrorists. They are reporting that the fire was started by the terrorist known as the Reaper because he was reported to be in Rochester the night before, with his German Shepherds. That little fucker with the crappy beard on CNN is making it sound like you travel with a big pack of German Shepherds. He stated this morning that the Reaper’s dog pack killed seven men the night before in a bar fight. He made it sound pretty horrible.”

Francis could hear Little Jimbo barking in the background while Amanda laughed.

“Nobody believes what the government news channels report anymore but they were right about the death toll probably. Rochester was packed last night because it was Friday night. Add the fact that there is only way in and one way out of town and it was blocked by fire, yeah, I reckon the death toll may have been that high. If it was it was mostly FEMA Camp 43 personnel and miners. They all work for the government. No big loss. And the German Shepherds killed two men, not seven. I killed the other five that night. Why don’t you email that little bearded fucker at CNN and tell him to get his facts straight?”

Now the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo were laughing hard. Finally Amanda regained her composure and spoke.

“That was a pretty good night’s work, Francis.”

“I liked Rochester but I had to do what I had to do. This was divine intervention from the good Lord. I haven’t had a chance to grill the warden yet but that is next on my list of things to do today.”

“Francis! You need to abandon that crazy plan of taking out FEMA Camp 43. It is too fortified with too many guards. It is inaccessible except from one direction and there are too many inmates. What is the inmate population, something like two million, or so I hear? That is as big as the Sin City prison. You have done enough kidnapping the head honcho!”

“There is a big difference between the inmates in Sin City prison and the people in FEMA Camp 43.”

“If it was worth it Zak or Scott would have done something a long time ago,” said Amanda.

“They both should have done something about it a long time ago.”

“Any operations to free FEMA Camp 43 would result in a lot of scouts dying.”

“Yeah, I reckon so but when did we start counting how many scouts have died in this war?  I have to give a Zak a call. You two be careful and stay in touch. You do know that Lynn really idolizes you. Maybe one of these days I will take you, her and Little Jimbo out to dinner.”

“Not unless I find an asbestos outfit! I know. I like the Night Ranger too. From what I have heard she is already one of our good scouts. There will be a big reward on her head one of these days, just like yours.”

“She kind of reminds me of another female scout I know and admire but she already has a partner.”

Amanda grinned.

“You and your hookers stay alert on the trail. I am sure the federal government is upset about you throwing a monkey wrench in their silver cash cow. Rochester was making the feds a lot of spending cash and not the printed phony stuff. Later.”

Then the computer transmission went dark. Francis closed the lid to his computer, thinking about the conversation he had just had.  He loved Amanda as a friend. She and Eric were the ones who had saved his life and set him free. She had also taken the time to teach him to make his poison and explosives.

“Hey, you terrorist! I need to go to the bathroom!”

Francis looked up to see Warden Nelson had managed to rise to a sitting position. When the warden sounded off the brown and black German Shepherds jumped to their feet and now was watching him intently in a threatening manner. The warden’s eyes grew wide and fear started to creep across his whitened face. The two Shepherds started to silently bare their large white teeth.

Francis arose and walked over to the man.

“What do you have to do? Piss?” asked Francis gruffly in his usual low toned voice.

“No.”

Francis glared at the little man and then walked over to his saddle bag. The Free America scout grabbed a roll of toilet paper. He pulled off five feet of the valuable paper resource and tucked it into his left jacket pocket. Then he walked back to the warden and roughly lifted him to his feet. The ropes on his feet allowed for the warden to take small baby steps.

“Okay, let’s go you weasel. If you do anything goofy those two big dogs will rip you to pieces and they always start with the throat. Personally, I would like to see that.”

“Why can’t I go take a shit somewhere in this cave?” asked the warden nervously.

“No one shits or pisses in my cave you sick, stupid mother fucker. We have a great latrine located outside.  We terrorists strive to keep this place clean and sanitary, unlike what you do in FEMA Camp 43. Move it and shut the hell up!.”

Francis then shoved the warden towards the entrance to the twin caves. Both German Shepherds prowled along each side of the warden, growling loudly and showing their large white teeth.

At the entrance Francis gave an order.

“Walk to the left. The latrine is fifty yards away.”

“Walk to the left? There is nothing over there but open sky beyond the cliff!”

“Shut up and walk to the left!” answered Francis.

The warden moved to his left on the rock trail that was lined with large boulders on his right and the wall of the mountain on his left. Once he neared the end of the granite trail he looked to his right when he was near the edge of the cliff and gasped. His body then began to shake uncontrollably.

To his right thirty feet away was a natural rock formation protruding out into the air from the side of the mountain, much like a wall bracket that would hold a wood shelf. Mounted at the end of the rock formation was a stout wood box with an attached stainless steel toilet lid, a toilet lid that an average camper would be familiar with if he or she carried a portable latrine. There was a stout two by twelve wood plank that was secured to the topside of the granite rock with heavy duty bolts. The last eight feet of the two by twelve piece of wood jutted out over the edge of the natural rock formation. That was where the wood box and seat were to be found, suspended in the air a thousand or more feet above the ground.

“What? You expect me to walk out on that outcropping to do my business? Do you expect me to sit on that toilet seat hanging one thousand feet above the ground? There are no hand rails! I could fall off and die!” yelled the warden.

“Watch your mouth asshole! We Free America scouts call that special place the Seat of Faith so show some respect. It beats the hell out of any port o let. It also provides an inspirational view while answering nature’s call and you don’t have to worry about any rattlesnake biting you on the ass while you are taking a dump. It’s either that or you can walk around with your pants full of shit and piss like your good buddy Javier did for three days before we killed him. You ain’t shitting in my cavern or on my mountain. If you go all stinky on me you will be staying outside on the trail for now with the two German Shepherds and if that happens those two dogs get real grouchy about stuff like that but at least you won’t have to worry about either one of them biting you on your ass.”

Francis gave the two German Shepherds a hand signal and both dogs reacted, growling and showing their big white teeth.

“That’s dangerous! The rock walkway is only two feet wide at the most and ten feet long! What if I fall?” pleaded the warden.

“Walk the plank matey! Get busy or crap in your pants! It ain’t often a person gets a chance to take a thousand foot crap and find out what an Eagle feels like when he takes a dump. Here is your ass wipe! Move it in one direction or another. It is cold out here and I ain’t waiting around any longer!” exclaimed Francis.

Francis untied his hands. The warden took the tissue paper and walked to the beginning of the natural out cropping. Then he fell to his hands and knees. He was crying uncontrollably but he slowly proceeded to crawl on his belly to the wood bench with the attached toilet seat. He was gripping the edge of the wood plank so hard his knuckles started to turn white.  He finally managed to rise to his feet to sit on the toilet seat and do his business. During the entire time he was praying loudly along with a lot of crying and wailing not daring to look down to his left or right while sitting on the Seat of Faith.

Francis and the dogs waited patiently in the nearby boulders until the warden was through. After ten minutes the warden crawled back on his hands and knees until arriving back on the main mountain trail. He collapsed face down on the granite floor of the trail breathing hard. Francis put out the thin cigar he was smoking and walked over to the shaken man. He picked up the little man roughly once again.

“Tell me, how does it feel to be scared shitless Nelson? It is nice to see you just got a little taste of what all those people experienced when you and your goons herded them into those gas ovens in FEMA Camp 43!  In fact, I can’t wait until you have to shit or piss again. The next time, I am going to make you walk the granite and wood plank to the Seat of Faith. It you fall to your knees the next time is when I am going to shoot you, one appendage at a time. Then I am going to throw you off the plank and put you where you should be, with all the shit at the bottom of the mountain. Now move it!” he said shoving the man in the direction of the entrance to the twin caves.

The warden staggered back to the twin caves and sat down in his customary place. Francis once again tied the warden’s arms and hands behind his back, making the ropes extra tight. All the while the two German Shepherds flanked his body, growling and showing their teeth.

When Francis returned with the dogs and the warden the notebook computer he left sitting on a boulder was beeping.

“Good Lord! Those three women go out on one dinner date with me and they are knocked out the next morning. Let me guess who is making this call. Give me one bark if you guys think it is the old man.”

The two German Shepherds barked once.  Francis lifted the lid to his notebook and Zak’s face appeared on screen.

“Good morning Francis! You look real tired! Were you up late last night?  It looks like the Night Ranger is whupping your young ass! Tell me, does the Night Ranger snore?”

Francis let a smirk creep across his face but he didn’t let the old man get under his skin. In fact, he was enjoying the fact that Zak appeared to be bothered by his relationship with Lynn.

“I don’t give her the time to snore, old man. What do you want?”

“I thought you would have left the twin caves by now and be doing your job, like killing government patrols in the mountains!”

“I have been busy old man. You don’t have a clue as to what I do or where I am going next. What do you want?”

Francis pulled a thin cigar out of his vest pocket and placed it in his mouth. Then he slowly struck a match and lit it while watching his computer screen and Zak. He was in no hurry.

Zak leaned forward in his chair so his face took up the entire computer screen. Francis noticed that the old man’s wrinkled face had turned red.

“Why did you burn down Rochester last night?”

“Why do you think I was the one who burned down Rochester?”

“Damn it! Quit playing games youngster! I know you did! The Night Ranger told me just ten minutes ago that you were the one who burned down Rochester!”

“That’s real funny old man. I know she didn’t say a thing to you other than to probably tell you to fuck off. She ain’t one of your green scouts anymore. She is as mean as Janie, Em and Amanda. You better start realizing that if you want her to answer her notebook computer. However, you are correct in your assumption.  I will show you the reason why Rochester burned last night.”

Francis blew a perfect smoke ring before he spun his notebook computer around on the boulder to display the warden and his two German Shepherds sitting on the ground beside the bound man. Then he spun his notebook computer back around.

“So, who is that? Did you grab another guinea pig for my crazy father’s experiment?”

“I sure did but this one is special, real special. I think Doc will be real happy about this slime ball.”

“What’s so special about that government jerk?”

“That is Nelson, Warden Nelson. He is the warden for FEMA Camp 43.”

It was the first time Francis had seen Zak speechless…for a brief moment. Then the leader of Free America smiled…but just a little.

“What? You grabbed him last night and you’re letting me know this morning? You should have called me last night!” yelled Zak.

“Well, Dad, we got him around ten o’clock and then I had to feed Betty, Midnight and the guys. And don’t forget your number one rule, a good scout should be in the sack by midnight unless they are on duty and they should always brush their teeth. So me, Lynn, Janie and Em partied for a little while with Jack Daniels, you know who that is, right up to midnight. Then me and the Night Ranger went to my tent and started to fu…”

“Enough Francis! Did you interrogate this warden fellow?”

“Not yet. I was just getting ready to do that when you called. He had to use the Seat of Faith ten minutes ago so that delayed me in the interrogation department.”

“What? Damn it Francis! You let him walk out to use that crazy contraption that you, Little Jimbo and Ringo created? I haven’t seen it yet but Doc told me all about what you three crazy fuckers created! What if he had fallen to his death? We need his computer password to log onto the government computers! Francis, sometimes…”

“Now now, Dad! Don’t get your blood pressure all out of whack. I was just having some fun with the piece of shit. I can see Data and a bunch of his geeks standing behind you slobbering at the mouth. Do you want his password right now? I was planning on eating something to get my energy levels up among other things and then waking up the Night Ranger.  You know those young, good looking Free America female scouts are really hard to wake up. It takes a lot of energy.  Did you know that I have to grab her big tits..”

“Enough Francis! Enough! Hell yes I want you to ask him some questions now!”

Francis could see the expressions on Data and his geek friends’ faces. All the geeks at the Secondary Base wished they could be like Francis.

“Okay, right now it is. Give me just a moment… Dad.”

Francis had discovered over the past two years that when speaking with Zak in tense situations over the notebook connection and calling him dad always pissed off the old man but this time Zak was maintaining his cool, for some reason. Why, Francis wasn’t sure.

“What do you think you’re doing Francis? Do you think that he is just going to give me his password just like that! You are gonna’ have to torture him and that might take all day. I have a lot of things to do today so may I call you later? And will you answer my call?” asked Zak pretending to be polite.

“Maybe, but I have a couple of excellent interrogators that happen to travel with me all the time for meetings just like this, far better than your amateur interrogators at the Secondary Base and my guys are available now. They don’t take all damn day like your wimpy interrogators do.  My interrogators will have him singing like a canary within a minute. You better use my boys now because later they may be busy peeing on some boulders on the trail. They are professionals and have busy schedules.”

Francis arose from his boulder seat and carried his notebook over to where Warden Nelson was propped against the granite wall of the twin caves. He surveyed the distance for several seconds than set the notebook computer down on the rock floor approximately ten feet from the warden’s sitting position on the cave floor.

“Can you see the warden clearly…Dad?” he asked.

Francis walked over to kneel beside the warden, looking at his notebook computer on the ground.

“What do you think you are doing terrorist!” exclaimed Warden Nelson.

“My dad wants to ask you a few questions, dick head. I suggest you tell him what he wants to know. You don’t want to meet my interrogators,” answered Francis with his handsome grin.

Then he pulled out one of his thin cigars from his vest pocket. He struck the match on the side of the warden’s face and lit the thin cigar.

“It is against the rules of the Geneva convention for you to torture me! Burning me with a cigar won’t work!” he yelled.

“Major, Sarge, schaffner!” exclaimed Francis.

“What does schaffner mean?” asked Zak through the two tiny speakers on the notebook computer.

“It means guard or guards. I am calling the guards for Warden Nelson. He better be on his best behavior. Watch and learn old man. I told you, I have the best interrogators in the world,” replied Francis.

The two big German Shepherds moved to sit on each side of Warden Nelson. They were sitting very close to his body.

“To answer your question about the rules of the Geneva Convention, yes, you are not allowed to commit torture on prisoners of war, Warden Shit Head. Unfortunately for you, those two German Shepherds can’t read and if you know anything about World War Two those damn Germans had a bad reputation for ignoring the Geneva Convention rules. Well, I don’t know for sure if those two Germans sitting beside you can read or not but I reckon we are about to find out.”

Francis stood and walked ten feet to kneel in front of his notebook computer.

“Ask him anything you want… Dad.”

Zak had a grin on his wrinkled, weathered face again. He was starting to enjoy the show. Data and his young geek friends had big grins on their faces.

“Okay. Warden, what is your password to log on to the government net?” asked Zak.

“Drop dead!” yelled the warden loudly.

Francis gave his two German Shepherds a hand signal and the two big dogs casually bit the man, Sarge on his right upper arm and Major on his left arm.

The warden screamed in pain for twenty seconds as the big dogs maintained their bites.

“Ow! At seven hundred and fifty pounds per square inch that must hurt like hell!” said Francis with a laugh.

Jane, Emily and Lynn stumbled into the area of the twin caves with a pistol in one hand and using their free hand to keep blankets wrapped around their bodies.

“What in the hell is going on?’ asked Lynn, now fully awake.

“Major and Sarge are interrogating the warden for the old man and doing a fine job I might add,” answered Francis.

Schultz, who was sleeping in Lynn’s tent alongside her, ran up to the warden and was standing at his feet just beyond his ankles. The little dog was acting anxious as if he was late for work.  Francis once again knelt down next to the warden.

“Man, you are in big trouble. You have awakened the master interrogator for Free America and he looks like he might be disturbed because he is late for work. He was spending the night with his girlfriend, that pretty brunette with the blanket wrapped around her naked body and you know how guys get when an interruption like that happens. Remember Warden? Those are the three gorgeous girls you wanted to party with last night! The next dog bite is gonna’ be a real mother fucker. Continue… Dad,” said Francis waving his hand at his computer on the granite floor.

Zak asked his question again.

“Go to hell!” yelled the warden defiantly.

Francis again gave a signal, but this one was different from the first.

The two German Shepherds sank their teeth into the warden’s legs right at the ankles, with Sarge grabbing his right leg and Major grabbing his left, spreading the warden’s legs wide apart. Then the Jack Russell terrier moved quickly between the warden’s legs, latching on to where it counts the most for a man. He started to shake his small head back and forth, growling the entire time, as the warden screamed in agonizing pain.

Francis let Schultz shake his head for a long ten or so seconds. Lynn, Jane and Emily had looks of pain on their faces. They were finding it uncomfortable to watch what was happening.

“Schultz, Major, Sarge… shaffner!” ordered Francis.

The three dogs released their grips. The warden slumped to the ground to his left. Francis walked over to the whimpering man propping him back into a sitting position. To keep the warden upright, Francis tied one of the ropes around the warden’s neck and looped around a rock protruding from the cavern wall just above his head. The warden’s body was shaking and he was moaning loudly.

“Now, I know that had to hurt like hell! Ask him again… Dad. The next interrogation technique from the master interrogator is a real mother fucker too and makes the last punishment seem like a Swedish massage!” exclaimed Francis.

“Enough! Enough! I will tell you whatever you want to know!” gasped the warden between moans.

Francis knelt down next to the warden and blew a puff of cigar smoke in his face.

“Good. Now those young fellows standing behind my… Dad onscreen are my brothers and if Schultz finds out that you aren’t telling the truth, well, I think you can figure it out.”

“What about my dog bites?” asked the warden.

“We will see about that after you give us the information we seek. It depends on if that little dog tells me you have been a good boy or an asshole. Call me if you need me… Dad. I need to start making breakfast for Warden Nelson’s three hookers right now. If the warden tells another fib or doesn’t want to cooperate just say the word schaffner. The master interrogator and his associates will help you out…Dad.”

Then Francis walked to the campfire, followed by Jane, Emily and Lynn.

“That’s real funny Francis. Nelson’s three hookers,” fumed Jane.

“Now you three know that I was just kidding. Plus, that statement will piss off Schultz because you three girls belong to him, not the warden. Schultz understands German and English. Schultz doesn’t like to miss breakfast.”

They had just arrived at their campsite when, suddenly, they heard the warden scream again.  Francis laughed.

“I guess he lied to Schultz or maybe Zak is just being a mean son of a bitch.”

Francis proceeded to make breakfast while his three female scouts got dressed.

* * * * *

The interrogation of the warden took Zak and the three dogs thirty minutes. During the first five minutes there were two instances of blood curdling screams from the warden. After that things were quiet.  While eating breakfast Lynn’s notebook beeped. That was how Francis discovered the interrogation was complete. Zak was reporting they had gotten everything they needed. While carrying Lynn’s notebook computer back to the entrance Zak was on line waiting to speak with Francis.  The young scout arrived to where the warden was lying on his side on the cavern floor moaning. The rope had come loose during the violent interrogation.  Zak spoke.

“Is the Night Ranger within earshot Francis?”

“No. Why?”

“Data and his boys have been busy since we got the warden’s password. I had them do a search. Lynn’s mother and father are in FEMA Camp 43, I believe. Ask her if their names are Juanita and Marion.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Because, I know she is your girl! Information like that should come from your significant other, not from some beaten up old soldier.”

“Zak, you are one strange man. Go ahead and ask her.  I will go get her. Give me a minute.”

Francis set the notebook computer down on a boulder. Soon Lynn was in front of the screen. Lynn wasn’t upset, but had a serious look on her face.

“Is what Francis told me true? Are my father and mother in FEMA Camp 43?”

“It looks like they are in the laundry building for the camp. They have been there for quite a few years.”

“What about my brother and two sisters?”

“We are working on it. They aren’t in the two million name roster at FEMA Camp 43 but we are downloading a ton of information from the penal network thanks to obtaining the warden’s password, I thought I would let you know. So what are you going to do, Night Ranger? Head home to the Secondary Base? You still ride for me don’t you?”

Lynn stared at the screen in thought for a long moment as Zak waited for her reply.

“I will always ride for Free America. You know that but no, I think I am going to help Francis if he will allow me to do so. I ride with Francis now.”

“Are you speaking about taking down FEMA Camp 43?  That is a suicide run! I keep telling that boy and he just….”

Lynn closed the lid to the notebook computer. Francis was standing behind her watching and listening. Lynn stood up and handed Francis his notebook computer and then embraced him firmly for a long moment, silently. Finally, she spoke in his ear.

“Let me ride with you until this is over.”

“If that is what you want to do then I can’t say no. However, it is like Zak said. This could be a one way trip despite all my planning and efforts.”

“Why are you doing this Francis?” she asked.

“Because there are people being killed everyday in that hellhole and being worked to death as slaves. I am going to set them free.”

“I meant, why are you allowing me to ride with you until this is over?”

Francis was quiet for a long minute looking in Lynn’s brown eyes.

“Are you demanding for me to answer that question because I love you?”

“I would like that. I love you and the dogs,” she answered.

“What about my horse and mule?” he asked.

“Silly man!” she exclaimed.

Then she planted a long kiss on his lips. Finally, needing air, she broke the kiss but stayed in his arms.

“When were you planning on doing this?”

“I would like to do the raid as soon as I can. I am ready. I just have to clean up some minor details like the warden, Janie and Em. It is a day’s ride from here then another day of prep work before I take out the place.”

“I think Janie and Em want to ride with us. As far as the warden is concerned, I thought we were going back to the box canyon to do another experiment.”

Francis frowned and shifted his weight from foot to foot looking at the bound warden.

“That experiment is taking up too much of my time, but this guy would be a great addition to Doc’s research. If Warden Nelson had enough people, he would send those people to the gas ovens in FEMA Camp 43 for a larger kill total than Hitler had. I am curious as to what his soul weighs but now is the time to execute my plan now that Nelson is missing. With a new warden at FEMA Camp 43 there will be some confusion. I have been working on this project for almost two years now, me and the dogs.”

“Why don’t we call Doc and see if we can get him to come to the twin caves? That is a lot closer than the box canyon and you said Doc has been here before. That will save us at least two weeks of riding time if he travels here. After all, you aren’t Fed Ex! Doc should come here. You have held up your end of the agreement.”

“That is a great idea! I will give Doc a call a little later this morning. Right now I have to feed and water the animals. Please tell Janie and Em that if that shit head lying over there has to go use the Seat of Faith that that is my responsibility. Another thing, what about that dog of his that we brought back with us from the Grizzly Steak House? Schultz acts like he wants to tear her up!”

“I don’t think he wants to tear her up in the sense you are thinking about tearing her up. I think Mitzi is in heat. She is a cute little thing. While the pack was at the entrance with you last night Jane took her out of the cage and she was very friendly. I think the warden just carried her around as a trophy to garner attention. By the way the dog acts with us I think the little asshole abused the little dog.”

“Really? Schultz has never tapped any pussy as far as I know! That’s funny! My mean little dog, the alpha male of the pack, is a virgin! I might have to give Schultz the opportunity to change that tonight after supper! You can’t trot around being an alpha male with the macho German Shepherds running with you thinking you are a virgin!”

“What are you going to do Francis?” asked Lynn, a bit surprised and concerned about Schultz and maybe Mitzi.

“I am going to put Schultz in that cage with Mitzi tonight and set it on the ground in front of the good warden so he can watch. Give the little pervert a taste of his own medicine.”

“Francis! You aren’t serious are you?”

“I sure am. Schultz has earned it.”

“What about the two Shepherds?”

“What? They are too big for that little dog!”

“I wasn’t talking about that! Don’t you think they will get anxious?”

“You may be right about that. I will take them for a walk while Schultz does his thing. As hyper is that little mutt is it should only be a ten minute walk at the most.”

“Actually, I think all three of us girls wouldn’t mind if Schultz became a daddy. I would like to have a Jack Russell terrier to ride with me in the future.”

“Why? You already have one girl.”

Francis went back to his guard duty while Lynn walked back to the campfire with a smile on her face.

* * * * *

Chapter Sixteen

Rainy Night

Two hours had passed since Zak had spoken with Francis. Lynn, Francis, Jane and Emily were sitting around the vented campfire on stools waiting for a return call from the leader of Free America. The German Shepherds were pulling guard duty watching the warden while Schultz was out on the trail checking out the area and doing his usual thing, marking the trail.

“Excuse me ladies and gent but I have to use the facilities. Is the water bucket in the latrine?” asked Jane.

“I checked this morning. The water tank was full and so was the two gallon bucket,” replied Francis.

“I have to go too! What the hell is a water tank? Why would I need a water bucket using the Seat of Faith that Zak was yelling at you about this morning?” asked Lynn.

“Oh my God! What did you tell her, Francis!” yelled Jane.

“Actually, I told her nothing.”

“What are you talking about Janie? I had to use the bathroom! I thought that was the Seat of Faith around here!”

“You don’t use that stupid Seat of Faith to go to the bathroom! That is dangerous as hell! Even looking at the damn thing sends chills up my spine! We have a nice bathroom behind the big boulders to the left of the entrance. It has a flusher and a sink with a plug to wash your hands. All that is required of you is that you have to replace the water you use for the next scout. Good Lord, Francis! What is wrong with you?”

“I was gonna’ tell her whenever she said she had to go!”

“You shit head! I got up in the middle of the night last night while you were sleeping and went out behind some boulders!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Sorry. You should have let someone know, like me. I didn’t even know you got out of the tent,” answered Francis.

“So why is there a Seat of Faith?”

“Because Francis and Little Jimbo act like teenagers sometimes,” said Emily.

“When Francis, Ringo and Little Jimbo were constructing the interior of the twin caves with Doc’s scouts they got this bright idea during a break. The seat for the john was broken during the transport so Ringo took a couple of scouts to Rochester to uh, procure a toilet seat,” said Jane.

“First of all, Ringo stole the seats from the Grizzly Steak House and how do you know all this? You weren’t here,” asked Francis.

“We have hung out with the Pale Rider a lot more than you have. She told us all about it. Anyways, Ringo got into some trouble during the theft, got mad, shot up two johns when a security guard caught him loosening up the wing bolts and he came back with two stainless steel toilet seats.”

“Actually, Ringo and his two scouts killed four security men using their knives that day, similar to some ladies I know,” said Francis.

“Whatever! Quit interrupting me! When he returned Francis and Little Jimbo made the wood box and the plank using pressure treated wood once they had the extra toilet seat. That pissed off Doc but both of them just laughed at the old man. Then they attached the stainless steel lid to the top of the wood box. Then they used a solar powered drill and some thunderheads to secure the plank. Only those two crazies would walk out on that narrow granite walkway to do that. Using the thunderheads really pissed off Doc because those things are expensive.”

“Yeah, Doc got pretty mad at us,” said Francis.

“So the Seat of Faith is just a…joke?” asked Lynn.

“I reckon so. The warden was the first person to ever use it, other than Little Jimbo walking out there and sitting on the lid to show off the day we fastened it down. Little Jimbo even turned around and dangled his legs off the reverse side, lit a cigarette and looked around. He sat there smoking while looking down in the canyon until Amanda yelled at him to quit screwing around. When she yelled at him he jumped up somehow from that position and stood on the lid. He told Amanda if she didn’t quit yelling at him he was gonna’ do a front flip and land on the plank. That got her and Doc mad. That man ain’t scared of heights. Neither is Francis. He was standing on the plank behind Little Jimbo making it bounce up and down making sure the plank was secure.”

“What if it wasn’t?” exclaimed Lynn.

“Doc, Ringo and some scouts were standing on the other end. We weren’t in any danger.”

Lynn had a dark look on her pretty face.

“Men! They are as crazy as hell sometimes! Would you show me the latrine Jane?”

“Follow me.”

The two women stomped out of the twin caves.

“I think you need to converse with Lynn a little more than grunting at night Francis,” said Emily.

“I reckon so Em.”

All four notebook computers started to beep.

“Do you want me to get that Francis?”

“Sure. I don’t feel like arguing with the old man anymore today.”

Emily lifted up the lid on her notebook. Onscreen was the elderly man Doc.

“Hello Emily. How is the arm doing?”

“It’s doing fine Doc. I am getting back to normal. Do want to speak with Francis?”

“Yes, if he is available. My son just told me he has been a busy man.”

“Here he is.”

Emily handed the notebook computer to Francis.

“Hi Doc. I got another candidate for your research. This one is a real asshole so he certainly qualifies for your experiment.”

“So I hear. I was calling to tell you me, Ringo and the boys will be leaving within an hour to come to the twin caves. We will be taking relief horses and we will be traveling through the night. I am anxious to meet this fellow.”

“It’s nice to have relief horses, isn’t it? Where are you at?”

“About fifty miles north of the Javier ranch. I should be there by tomorrow night. Are you gonna’ stick around?”

“I was itching to hit the trail tomorrow morning.”

“I was afraid of that. You headed for FEMA Camp 43?”

“That’s where I have been trying to get to for the past two weeks.”

“All righty. Just leave the warden hog tied in the twin caves. And don’t set any booby traps!”

“It sounds good to me. I should be back in two days. It won’t take me long to find out if I have laid out a good plan or not.”

“Are the girls going with you?”

“I reckon so.”

“Why don’t you wait a day? Ringo has thirty scouts traveling with him and I know Scott is in your area with his men. I’m sure they would be willing to help you out.”

“Thanks but I feel like I can handle it, especially with the three girls. Kind of like you guys did with FEMA Camp 37, blow it up and see who runs or fights. There is no sense in a lot of scouts getting killed if none of the inmates in FEMA Camp 43 fight for their freedom.”

“Okay Francis. It’s your life. Just be careful and stay alive. Don’t do anything crazy,” warned Doc.

“I ain’t planning on dying Doc. You know where I will be in case you need to hook up with me. You know the trail. Later.”

Then Francis closed the lid to his notebook computer, thinking about what Doc had just said. Lynn and Jane returned.

“That is a real nice, clean latrine! Very nice to find something like that out in the middle of nowhere! Did you build that Francis?” asked Lynn sitting down on her wood stool.

“Little Jimbo, Ringo and I built it. It is just a few sheets of treated plywood with blocking nailed together. It should last a few more years.”

“It sure beats the shit out of your Seat of Faith!” exclaimed Jane.

“I reckon that depends on who you are,” answered Francis while puckering his lips and blowing the volatile female scout a kiss.

“We heard the notebooks beeping. What did Zak say?” asked Lynn.

“It wasn’t Zak, it was Doc. He said him and Ringo along with the escort is headed to the twin caves and should be here tomorrow night. I told him I was leaving tomorrow morning but I would leave the warden here for him to do with whatever he wanted. You know what that is.”

“I would like to stay and see that Francis! There is nothing I would like to do more than push that plunger again on that scum ball!” exclaimed Jane.

“You can stay here if you want Janie. I am headed to FEMA Camp 43 tomorrow morning come hell or high water.”

“Can’t we wait for Doc, lover?” asked Lynn.

“Nope. I have things to do and I need to get them done. I have been getting side tracked doing this for the last six months.”

All three female scouts looked at each other but said nothing. Finally Lynn spoke.

“I guess we better rest up. Francis said earlier it is a one day ride to FEMA Camp 43 from here but it will take us longer than that.”

“Why is that?” asked Francis.

Lynn paused before answering his question.

“Tell me. Do the dogs have rain gear?”

“Of course not!” exclaimed Francis.

Emily and Jane had surprised looks on their faces.

“If we travel tomorrow the pack is gonna’ get wet! I smell rain,” replied the Night Ranger.

“You do?” asked Jane.

“Well, sort of. Plus I checked the National Weather Service with my notebook computer this morning. A cold front is moving into northern Nevada later tomorrow. It states on their website there is seventy percent chance of rain for the FEMA Camp 43 area tomorrow evening and most of the next day.”

“Smart girl,” said Emily.

“I don’t care if God sends a flood tomorrow, I am headed to FEMA Camp 43!” exclaimed Francis.

Lynn used her brown eyes to send a piercing look at Francis. It was the kind of look from a woman that would burn through your body.

“Okay, I was just letting you know Francis. I also want to let you know that I don’t like my dogs getting soaked to the bone when it is cold as hell.”

Lynn stood up from her wood stool and moved to the tent that she and Francis shared. Jane and Emily were grinning at each other.

“Wow! I have seen Amanda act like that with Little Jimbo out on the trail when he pisses her off,” said Emily softly.

“Me too! One of two things is gonna’ happen tonight.  We need to set up another tent because you ain’t getting any pussy tonight, Francis. Or you can follow her into that tent and discuss your pig headed behavior and the welfare of her, uh, your, uh…dogs. You better quit being so determined about getting to FEMA Camp 43, like as if it is going anywhere! You of all people! You never act like you are in a hurry! For God’s sake man! You ride with a mule and three dogs!” hissed Jane.

“Hey! Leave the family out of this!” he hissed back.

Francis stood up, threw what remained of the coffee he was drinking on the campfire and disappeared into the tent Lynn had entered.

One minute later Schultz returned from his trail adventure and entered the same tent where Lynn and Francis had retired to as Jane and Emily watched. Twenty seconds later the two female scouts saw a muscular arm holding the terrier under his belly emerge from the tent flaps and gently place the small animal on the ground. Then the two women heard the two tent flaps zip shut while Schultz settled to the ground by the tent.

Jane grinned at Emily.

“Good grief! It is still early in the morning!” said Jane.

“I think the rain argument won this one Janie,” said Emily.

* * * * *

The next morning Francis and his three female scouts were packed and ready to go. He had doubled up on the warden’s bonds and also gagged him, not telling him a thing. His squadron was getting a late start but he was in no hurry. True to his word, Doc along with Ringo and his thirty hardcore Free America scouts had traveled through the long night. They were a lot nearer today than they were yesterday. Francis spurred Midnight and the dog pack led the way out of the boulder maze. This time the trip was much shorter. The alpha male of the pack seemed to sense that now was the time to get down to business.

“It only took us an hour to get through the maze! Is something wrong with Schultz?” asked Lynn.

“Yeah, is he sick? I saw him pee on only one boulder moving through the maze,” added Jane.

“He’s fine. He knows it is time to go to work. When we get to the entrance we will hang a right and follow the trail. It leads right to FEMA Camp 43. We may make it by nightfall but we kind of got a late start and I am in no hurry,” said Francis.

“I wonder why that is?” asked Jane.

Lynn turned in her saddle and grinned at Jane.

“I think Lynn is right. It does smell like rain,” said Francis.

“It took you a whole day and night in a small canvas tent to come to that decision, Francis?” asked Emily.

All three of the female scouts laughed. Francis joined in on the laughter.

“Hey, I checked the National Weather Service website when I was in that tent!”

“Yeah, right. I bet you were checking more than that young man!” said Jane laughing.

The four scouts continued on the trail for the next five minutes, occasionally breaking out into laughter while the dog pack scouted ahead.

After one hour of riding on the high mountain trail Francis stopped.

“Why are we stopping?” asked Jane.

“This is the last forest on this high trail. We need to stockpile some firewood for the night. We have plenty of room on one of the one wheel carts to keep the wood dry,” said Francis.

He dismounted Midnight and went to Betty. Francis returned with a machete in his hand. Lynn dismounted Butch and did the same with Cleopatra. One minute later Jane had a machete in her hand.

“We need to get a healthy supply of firewood. We might be bogged down for a day or more,” said Francis as he began to cut up a fallen tree.

“You know, we could have been in the twin caves waiting for Doc and his men not worrying about the weather if you weren’t so hard headed,” said Jane as she began to swing her machete chopping up a dead tree.

Francis said nothing and continued to swing his machete.

After one hour of labor the three scouts had a healthy supply of firewood secured to the one wheeled cart. The three scouts who had been working hard mounted their rides and continued on the high trail to FEMA Camp 43.

After five more hours of riding Francis stopped once again. Where he stopped was a wide area of the high mountain trail that had large boulders bordering on each side.

“We need to set up camp here for now. I smell rain and it will be here in less than an hour. We need to move it and set up our canvas shelters in these boulders for the night. That part of the trail is elevated.”

“How far ahead is FEMA Camp 43?” asked Lynn.

“It is another six or seven miles ahead. The mountain trail ahead of us gets really narrow. It is a narrow ledge with a two thousand foot drop on the left.  I don’t want to be caught on the trail in the rain. First of all, you can’t turn around on it and secondly it is a good thousand feet long and rocky as hell. Going across that trail is slow going. We will camp here for now until the rain passes.”

The four Free America scouts went to work setting up their camp for the night using the big boulders to secure their waterproof canvas to protect the animals. Just as Jane had secured the last rope the wind started to pick up and the sky grew darker. It was five o’clock in the afternoon.

“Holy shit! That is one cold wind!” said Emily.

“It looks like we got the tarps and tents secured just in time. Time to relax for a little while,” added Lynn.

“This looks like a nice and high area Francis. This part of the trail is strange. It is fairly smooth and there are no small rocks like in other parts of the trail,” said Emily.

The Night Ranger jumped from the plateau where the horses were standing and where the camp was set up. It was a tight fit but there was room in the big boulders. Then she suddenly realized what she was standing in.

“This might be part of a trail but it also a flash flood pathway! Will we be safe here tonight?”

“Smart lady! That is exactly what it is. It is the first part of a wash that runs down this mountain. The water comes off the wall of the mountain but once it hits that trail it moves off quick, very quick. You don’t want to be standing on that trail when the rain comes. You will be washed away.”

“You have seen this before?”

“Three times in three years. The first time I was caught in the rain on the ledge that is ahead. At that time it was just me and Midnight. The wind was blowing hard, it was raining hard and it was touch and go. That was when I found out I had a damn good horse. That trail’s surface ain’t too bad for traction but any wet rock is slippery and you can’t tell the deep puddles from the shallow ones. The last two times I had the pack with me. We camped in this exact same spot and watched the water flow.”

“The water doesn’t flow above the edge of the plateau?”

“Nope. The water runs too fast and this part of the groove is only three hundred yards long, plus we are at the beginning of the wash. I would imagine the water is deeper down at the south end because the wash is deeper. It has taken nature millions of years to carve out this ditch.”

“I was just making sure. I don’t want Schultz to be swept away.”

Francis laughed.

“Once that water gets moving it doesn’t matter what you are if you get out in the water. It moves so fast a horse will be knocked on its butt and pushed down the mountain. You will see because the rain has arrived.”

Just as Francis said, the sound of light rain started to pitter patter on the overhead tarp as the wind picked up. At that moment a bolt of lightning struck a nearby mountain top. The sound at this altitude was loud. The two German Shepherds and terrier bolted inside their tent.

“I’m going to sit inside with the pack and calm them down!” exclaimed Lynn.

The pretty brunette squeezed into the front of the small tent parting the tent flaps. Francis could see the back of her leather coat and watched as see petted the two big dogs.

“Oh brother! Where is Schultz?”

“He is under his banky!” replied Lynn as another bolt of lightning sounded in the air.

“His banky? Do you mean blanket, as in my blanket?”

“Yes! Our blanket! He is frightened!”

“The alpha male in action,” said Jane laughing.

“He is a phony little shit! He never acted that way before. He is just doing that to get attention from Lynn,” said Francis.

“I reckon so. Let’s get a fire started near those three big boulders. They are blocking the wind enough to be safe. I looked on my notebook computer at the weather reports and I think we will be here for tomorrow,” said Jane.

“I did too! We should have stayed at the twin caves, Francis!” exclaimed Emily.

“Why? This is what makes life fun! That lightning is no threat to us and I like the rain. Camping in the wild always makes food taste better and I can’t think of a better way to spend my time on a rainy day than with my friends and my animals. The only thing we don’t want to do is be on that slick ledge for now. It will take at least a day of sunshine to dry out the trail. You take what God gives you ladies.”

“Look at Lynn. At least she seems…happy,” said Emily.

“She loves those mutts and they sure seem to have taken a shine to her,” said Jane.

Francis sat down with his notebook computer on his lap and watched Lynn in the front of the tent petting the two big German Shepherds on their heads. Every time there was thunder the two big dogs would look around nervously and snuggle closer to her torso or legs.

“Have they always been scared of storms?” asked Jane.

“They have always been that way since I found them,” replied Francis.

“Tell us that story Francis!” exclaimed Jane.

“I found Sarge and Major in Northern California more than a couple of years ago. I was holed up under a rock overhang and there was a bad storm during the night. In the morning the storm had passed and it was a nice, sunshiny day. After four hours of riding on a high mountain trail north of Lake Tahoe I came upon a raging forest fire that was headed away from where I was traveling. Following the trail I came across a burnt out ranch house. Out behind the house was a barn that was constructed of block. It was still intact so I checked out the interior and that was when I found Sarge and his son Major. Major was only ten weeks old at the time, a big ball of brown fur. I also found a woman and her little girl. They had taken refuge in the barn. The farmer had tried to save his ranch house and had been badly burned. It was a rough two days. The owner of the ranch died the third day. The fire was caused by lightning strikes from the storm.”

“What happened to the woman and her little girl?”

“She had family in a nearby town. It took a day to get there. I had Schultz at the time and the dogs just seemed to bond with each other. When I left the woman and her little girl at their relative’s house Sarge and Major started to follow me, Midnight, Shultz and Betty. The woman ran out to me and handed me a tattered hardbound book and asked me to watch over her dogs.”

“What was the book she gave you?” asked Jane.

“It was a book of English to German translations. She and her husband were German immigrants. She was the one who trained the Shepherds with German commands. They have been with me ever since that day.”

“Have you ever seen her again?”

“No, but some of Free Americas’ scouts have been to her small town since then. They have told me she asked about me and the Shepherds. Maybe one of these days I will get back to that area again and return her dogs.”

Emily and Jane turned to look at Lynn interacting with the two Shepherds in the tent. Lynn was laughing and the two big dogs were lying on her legs while she petted them as the storm continued unabated.

“Have you ever told Lynn this story?” asked Jane.

“No. Why?” asked Francis.

Jane and Emily exchanged uneasy looks with each other while Francis was focused on his notebook computer.

“I think you better stay out of Northern California for a while,” answered Jane.

Francis turned to look at the tent containing the dog pack and Lynn.

“I reckon so,” he sighed.

* * * * *

Chapter Seventeen

One Way Trail

It rained steadily through the night and for most of the next day. The storm brought in some cold weather but not cold enough to snow or leave ice on the trail. The runoff of rain water from the face of the mountain where the four Free America scouts had camped for the night collected in the granite ravine and formed a fast moving stream two feet deep just minutes after the rain started to fall, just as Francis had described what would happen. When the rain ceased at four o’clock in the afternoon the stream disappeared just as quickly as it appeared something that was common in the desert when it rained. Flash floods in Nevada had a bad reputation. Francis determined that the granite rock ledge, which was part of the trail ahead and what he had named the One Way Trail, would be far too wet to traverse with any degree of safety and that it would be dark before the group was at the halfway point for this day so another night would be spent under the tarps. To step in a puddle on the One Way Trail and find out it was two feet deep, especially if you were on a horse, would result in at best a broken leg or falling to your death along with the animal. There was still two hours of daylight left in this day and he was in no hurry to get to FEMA Camp 43.

“Just how dangerous does this trail become?” asked Lynn.

“It is not that bad unless there is standing water. It is similar to the Nightmare Trail if you are referring to the ledge but instead of being six to seven miles long like the Nightmare Trail it is only a thousand feet at the most. I call it the One Way trail because you can’t turn around on your horse once you jump on the trail. There is no room to do that but unlike the Nightmare Trail you can see the entire length of this trail so you can see that it gets normal again so you don’t go into sheer panic mode,” answered Francis.

“Have you ever seen anyone on the trail? I mean any humans on horses?” asked Lynn.

“The only thing I have ever seen on this trail is mountain goats, rattlesnakes, animals like that. Rattlesnakes are never good unless your horse is used to gunfire but at this height I have never seen a rattler on the ledge. I doubt if any prospectors have ever used the One Way Trail either, at least since the government built FEMA Camp 43. Once you bridge the One Way trail you get back on a safe part of the mountain path where it’s wider. A few miles farther and you will find yourself looking down on the FEMA Camp 43 entrance wall below. The trail runs about a mile above the canyon that contains the FEMA camp and dead ends into a sheer mountain wall that is a good six hundred feet tall. That wall is smooth and impossible to climb. We will tie up the horses and mules at the halfway point to FEMA Camp 43. There is just one way down from the high trail to the paved highway that goes into the camp where you can ride a horse and there are four trails a person can walk down to the road. Those foot trails are steep and you could easily fall. There is also a deep, dry creek bed running alongside the FEMA camp road that we will be using. Once we get to the halfway point we will walk the rest of the way behind the boulders on the high trail to take a peek at the camp so you three can see what we are up against. The whole area is heavily forested, thank God, so sneaking up on the camp ain’t that hard.  FEMA Camp 43 is one fortified place. You will see the four blue gun towers that dominate the entrance and the guard posts at various places on the highway. Those gun towers contain a lot of heavy machine guns and I figure about twenty men for each work shift. They are a big problem for us.”

“I have heard FEMA Camp 43 is the largest and most secure concentration camp in the United States. No one has ever escaped from that FEMA camp and it has never been attacked by anyone,” said Lynn.

“There is a FEMA camp a little larger in Alaska that holds two million people, or so I hear, but FEMA Camp 43 by any measure is one big ass place. It is easily the size of the Las Vegas Metro population area if you don’t count the Sin City prison population. The camp is squeezed into a large, deep box canyon with sheer walls on three sides that rise one thousand feet and can’t be scaled. The fourth wall of FEMA Camp 43 is man made and is three hundred feet in height according to the prints that Data sent to me. Actually, the wall is a high, long and wide building that holds Homeland Security and FEMA employees. The building runs from one wall of the canyon to the opposite side and is eight hundred and fifty feet in length. The FEMA camp employs one hundred thousand people, mostly guards and a thousand administrative people so there are always thirty three thousand government people on duty at any time. The government has three shifts running the camp.”

“How do thirty three thousand people keep two million people in line? That doesn’t seem like a lot for that many people.  Don’t they need more guards than that?” asked Jane.

“FEMA Camp 43 is the most advanced camp in the FEMA network. There are electro magnetic locks in every door that are computer controlled. Plus their guards are armed and are brutal as can be. The FEMA inmates are beaten into submission and a lot are killed every day according to the daily reports Data intercepted. It is not a pleasant place to be. It is worse than what was in Germany at one time thanks to Warden Nelson, who is no longer in charge,” said Francis with a grin.

“It is hard to believe that this is happening in America. People forced into slave labor camps, probably for the rest of their lives. It is like the Nazis have taken over this country,” said Jane.

“It is not hard to believe for me. FEMA Camp 37 was no picnic while I was there and I was only there two years after Free America burnt it down the first time. I have done my fair share of twelve hour shifts, seven days a week bullshit,” said Lynn.

“I bet it was no fun. Scott has told me and Janie about that place when we trained him out in the field after we freed him in the first raid. Some nights, during his stories, I felt like shooting him,” added Emily.

“At least FEMA Camp 37 wasn’t herding people into gas ovens like they do in FEMA Camp 43, Em. We will get some rest tonight and a late start tomorrow.  We need to let the One Way Trail dry out. I am going to get in touch with Doc and Ringo to see where they are presently. They might have made it to the twin caves last night and knowing the old man they probably did. I am curious as to how much the good warden’s soul weighed and I need to remind Doc to feed that Jack Russell terrier we left in the cage. After all, that is Schultz’s woman.”

“This is a first! The Reaper is actually gonna’ get in touch with someone instead of them getting in touch with him!” exclaimed Jane.

Francis just laughed and picked up his notebook computer. He sat down on his folding wood stool that he carried around on Betty and got comfortable lighting up one of his thin cigars. He lifted the lid on the notebook computer, began typing and using the mouse pad. Soon Doc’s old face was on screen.

“Hi Francis! Terrible weather we are having today! This rainy weather makes my old bones ache! Where are you holed up for the night? I hope you are staying dry!”

“We are one hundred feet away from the east entrance to the One Way Trail. You don’t know where that is, do you?”

“I have never heard of that particular trail and I thought I knew all the trails in this state!”

“Where are you at?” asked Francis.

“We have been dry in the twin caves staying out of this nasty storm. The rain ain’t that heavy but the lightening has been horrible,” replied the old medical doctor.

“Once you leave the twin caves and the boulder maze head west on the main trail. You are six hours away from where we are at mule pace. Riding horses you can get here a lot faster. Was the warden alive when you arrived at the caves?”

“Yes he was. But he ain’t alive no more,” replied Doc.

“What did his soul weigh?” asked Francis.

“You won’t believe me. When it came to a soul, he was a skinny little man.”

“Let me take a wild guess. I think he weighed two point one grams like Javier.”

“That is a pretty close guess. That evil man’s soul weighed one and a half grams. One and a half grams! That has been the lowest measurement so far!  He had no soul to speak of. From the reports we have intercepted that was clear to me long ago. Warden Nelson was a truly evil man. His measurement sure brought down the average.”

“What did you do with his body?”

“Warden Nelson is where he should be happy. We threw him off the cliff where the Seat of Faith is located. Ringo and Larry made a pretty good toss considering it was a thousand feet. He landed directly right beneath the Seat of Faith. I have some digital pictures of him using my zoom lenses to show you when I see you again one of these days. It is a messy picture I might add.”

Francis laughed.

“I reckon I will start using that seat every now and then when I visit the twin caves in the future instead of the latrine to pay my respects to the warden. I am sure Little Jimbo will use the Seat of Faith once he hears the news.”

“You won’t catch me out on that plank! We will be headed your way first thing at sunrise. I know what you are up to and I think you will need some…assistance. I think Ringo and his thirty scouts will come in handy tomorrow. All of those boys are good freedom fighters.”

Francis thought for a moment before answering. He looked at Lynn, Jane and Emily who were all ears. He was worried about the safety of his three female scouts.

“Sure, you can come along if you want to Doc. This ain’t gonna be no pleasure ride however. You won’t like the One Way trail. It is like the Nightmare Trail, just a shorter ride, and I know you don’t like high trails.”

Doc got a serious look on his face. Like the small dog Schultz, the old man didn’t like extreme heights.

“Being an old man I have learned one thing youngster. Sometimes you gotta’ do what you gotta’ do. I just want you to wait for us to get there. Okay? Give me your word youngster!”

Francis paused before replying. The three female scouts moved from where they were sitting on their wood stools to stand behind the Reaper. Francis didn’t bother to look at any of his female friends before answering.

“I will give you my word that one of us will be here but that is it.”

“That is good enough for me I guess.  You can’t be using much poison to bring down FEMA Camp 43. If you do that it will kill a lot of people in the box canyon no matter which way the wind is blowing. What are you using, explosives?”

Francis blew a ring of smoke from his cigar before answering. He looked at the smoke ring and then at the computer screen for a long while and then he finally spoke with his low pitched gruff voice.

“Yep,” answered Francis casually and slowly.

“What type of explosive are you using and how much?”

Francis rolled his eyes and took another drag on his cigar. He never liked to be questioned by anyone.

“Boy, you sure ask a lot of questions all of sudden considering you never seemed very interested before now. All you ever wanted to know was when was I gonna’ get you another lab rat for your experiment.  What is with that? Is Zak starting to practice that politically correct shit like the government and the dictator did right before they declared martial law in this sorry nation? Did all the shit that hit the fan on the government propaganda channels about the fire in Rochester affect him?”

“No, no. My boy told me he knows you are one determined young man and that you might pull this off but he wants to preserve as many FEMA inmates as we can if you do make an attempt. FEMA Camp 43 would make a defensible base because of its location and look at how many inmates joined us when we burnt down FEMA Camp 37 the last time, over two thousand. More than that, one thousand of those two thousand FEMA prisoners became scouts for Free America. We got a lot of Night Rangers out of that operation. We would like to get more. Let me see, if my math is still good, we got two thousand people out of two hundred thousand and all of them joined Free America in the struggle once they were liberated. One thousand of those people became freedom fighters. How many scouts do you reckon we would get out of two million? And don’t forget, none of those inmates in FEMA Camp 43 are sick or old. Warden Nelson saw to that with his gas ovens.”

Francis was deep in thought trying to do the math in his head. Lynn leaned over to nuzzle her head by his left shoulder.

“That would be ten thousand scouts Francis,” whispered Lynn, giggling softly.

“That would be ten thousand scouts Doc,” said Francis loudly.

“That is a lot of scouts!” exclaimed Jane.

“That sure is! That is the point I am trying to make! Free America and Scott might be picking up a lot of scouts. So are you using poison along with the explosives, Francis?” asked Doc.

Again the Reaper was slow and deliberate with his verbal response.

“I never planned on using poison for this operation,” answered Francis softly.

“So we are talking about explosives just as I figured. How much and what type of explosive are you going to use and where are they planted?”

“Damn Doc, you sure seem to be asking a lot of personal questions about my lifestyle!”

“I am just trying to help you son. I don’t want you or your lady friends to get hurt. That goes for those special four legged friends that always seem to be near you.”

Francis thought for a long moment trying to think up a bogus answer, like TNT. He knew Doc would never buy that so he told the truth.

“I used HMX and octanitrocubane.”

Doc whistled.

“I know you know how to make the octanitrocubane in the twin caves but where did you get the HMX? That stuff is expensive to make and I didn’t send any material to pull off that stunt. Plus we don’t have the equipment to make HMX!”

“I stole it from a secure shed at the silver and gold mine north of Rochester. The shed wasn’t that secure. There was a lot of HMX that was just sitting in the shed saying take me,” said Francis.

“How much HMX did you get?” asked Doc.

“You want to know something that is really fascinating old man? That gray mule I have can carry quite a bit of weight when she is feeling good.”

“How much, Francis?” persisted the old man.

“I made three short trips that night and temporarily stockpiled the stuff behind some big boulders nearby the shed so I could move it later.”

“How much, Francis?” asked Doc.

Doc was asking politely but he wasn’t going away without an answer. Doc was known to be an extremely patient man.

“I didn’t have a set of digital scales to weigh it for you, Doc.”

Jane could not stand the questioning anymore.

“Good grief, Francis! The old man is going to keep asking you about how much you acquired until the sun comes up tomorrow. Do you know or not?” asked Jane.

Francis frowned at his good friend and then turned back to the computer screen to face Doc.

“I reckon five hundred pounds of the stuff.”

“Holy shit! Five hundred pounds of HMX!  How much octanitrocubane did you manufacture in the twin caves?”

Francis squirmed a bit on his wood stool. Finally he answered.

“Two hundred pounds,” he said very softly.

“Shit! Did I hear you correctly? Did you say two hundred pounds?” roared Doc.

“That’s what he said Doc! Good Lord! Turn up your fucking hearing aid!” exclaimed Lynn.

She was getting tired of the interrogation of the man she loved. The Night Ranger was becoming the Night Ranger which was not a good thing. Lynn was becoming known as a woman with a short fuse.

“Don’t get in an uproar Lynn! Do any of you know how much HMX Ringo used when we blew up FEMA Camp 37 the second time? All three of you ladies were there when that happened. Francis was off doing his thing but you three were there. Do you three remember what happened?”

“No, I don’t know the answer to your stupid ass question! Do you know Janie? Do you Em?” asked Lynn.

“Fuck if we know! We were busy shooting down government helicopters trying to kill the Pale Rider. I do remember how badly the ground shook when those explosions fired off,” said Jane.

“I do too. Me and Janie were in the east ravine with eight stinger missile systems and the first blast knocked us flat on our butts. The second and third explosions weren’t as powerful as that first one but I remember how hard it was to stay on your feet when those two explosions occurred. There certainly was a lot of fire and dust in the air all of a sudden,” added Emily.

“I remember it well too. I was never so scared in my life,” said Lynn.

“Would you like to know how much HMX explosive Ringo and his boys planted around FEMA Camp 37 or not?” asked Doc.

All three female scouts said yes at the same time. Francis just stared at the camera on the notebook computer not uttering a word but he had a twisted smile on his face.

“It was two hundred pounds, just two hundred pounds,” replied Doc.

Lynn, Jane and Emily went to their knees behind Francis.

“That is just two big bags of horse feed! That’s all it took to blow up FEMA Camp 37?” asked Jane.

“That is all it took and you saw what happened. The big wigs from all the foreign countries that were sitting on the dedication stage flew three hundred feet into the air. The replacement wall that was supposed to be stronger than the wall that we first blew up when the Pale Rider was liberated was nothing but a pile of rubble. The federal government found large chunks of concrete in the streets of North Las Vegas four miles away. What are you thinking Francis?” asked Doc.

The Reaper blew another smoke ring into the air. He finally answered Doc’s probing question.

“Oops,” he answered with a grin on his face.

“Oops?” asked Doc.

“I know what I am doing old man. All the explosives are on the outer perimeter of that big ass wall at FEMA Camp 43. That building or wall or whatever you want to call it is extremely wide so I know that is gonna’ take a powerful explosion to obliterate it.  It took me a lot of effort to get those fake rocks in place, just like Ringo had to do with FEMA Camp 37. Who do you think gave me the idea? Ringo told me what he had to do and what I needed to do, obviously. Come on down the trail and you can take a look for yourself if you want but what the hell do you think you are going to do? Ride your one wheeled cart down there and tell the shit heads in those four blue gun towers manning those fifty five caliber machine guns that you are doing some landscaping and you need some river rock? I was going to blow the place tomorrow right at dusk. You can make it here by then easily. If not, you will surely be able to follow the mushroom cloud in the night time sky. Just make sure you aren’t on that narrow ass ledge when it starts to get dark. I can guarantee you that the ground is gonna’ shake.”

“Did you plant some detonators?”

“You know I did. There are eight rocks with built in remote detonators mixed in with all the explosive rocks. Here is the trigger.”

Francis reached inside the left side of his black leather coat and pulled out a slim black metal box with a red button and a blue button on one side. The device was the size of a common television remote control.

“The blue button activates the remote receivers and the red button is the detonator. All you need to do is have one hand that is free and get within eight hundred yards of the FEMA Camp 43 wall,” he said.

“I don’t know about this young man. For as much explosives as you say you have stashed eight hundred yards may be too close unless you get behind a big ass boulder real quick and even then I don’t know if that will be enough protection. Don’t forget. FEMA Camp 37 was out in the open when Zak blew it to smithereens. You are talking about setting off seven hundred pounds of extremely high explosives in an enclosed canyon. That fact will steer some of the energy in your direction. With what you are using, I would have to get my solar calculator out to give you the actual yield but I am sure it is way up there in totals.”

“Most of the explosive power will travel upwards!” exclaimed Francis.

“I certainly hope so youngster. I will get with Ringo and see if we can get there before you do something irrational…like getting yourself killed.”

“What you mean is crazy, right Doc?” asked Francis with his wicked grin.

Francis blew another perfect smoke ring into the air.

“Maybe and maybe not youngster but I don’t think your action is crazy, just real ambitious.  I will get with you tomorrow as soon as possible and figure it out with you, Francis. Is there anything else?”

“Yeah, don’t forget to feed and water Mitzi.”

“I did that the second we arrived. She is a sweet dog.”

Then the screen went dark.

“Doc sounded really worried about the amount of explosives you planted Francis,” said Jane.

“Yeah, he did,” agreed Emily.

Francis was unusually quiet.

“Look, maybe you girls should stay here tomorrow.”

“You ain’t getting rid of me that easy partner! I am going with you!” exclaimed Lynn.

Emily and Jane nodded their heads in agreement.

“All righty then. I welcome your assistance tomorrow. I guess for now we get some rest, enjoy the clean and cool mountain air, the three quarters moon and some Jack Daniels tonight.”

The four scouts partied around the campfire until ten o’clock that night discussing tomorrow’s activities.

* * * * *

It was two o’clock in the morning when Lynn heard both of the German Shepherds barking loudly. She quickly moved and grabbed one of her Colts lying nearby and scurried out of her tent. She figured Francis was using the latrine because he wasn’t lying beside her. She was still dressed from last night’s campfire get together. That was when she realized she had had too much Jack Daniels last night. She met Jane and Emily at the camp fire and they too, were carrying their pistols. The two German Shepherds were standing beside the three women but they weren’t barking any more. They were wagging their tails and looking down the granite ravine in the direction of the twin caves.

“I hear hoof beats, a lot of hoof beats,” said Lynn softly.

“Where’s Francis?” asked Jane.

The three women looked around the tight campsite. Lynn went back to her tent and looked inside one more time just to make sure.

“He’s not in the tent!”

The three women looked around the campsite once again and then under the tarps where the big animals were tied up for the night.

“Where’s Midnight? Where is Francis’ horse?” asked Emily with alarm.

Ringo and his men pulled up to the camp. Doc, in his one wheeled cart, was bringing up the rear and was still one hundred yards away.

“Hello ladies. Doc got motivated after speaking with Francis earlier tonight and ordered us to get moving. We rode through the night to get here. What’s wrong?” asked Ringo.

He could tell from the expressions on the three female scouts’ faces that something was not right.

“It’s Francis! He and his horse are not here!  He left sometime in the night while we were sleeping!” exclaimed Lynn with anguish in her voice.

The half breed scout dismounted his horse and grabbed a flashlight from one of his saddle bags. He began to walk around with the flashlight searching the ground, waiting for Doc’s arrival. He found what he was looking for within ten seconds in the dark with his flashlight by starting his search at Francis’ and Lynn’s tent. There was a scrawled message on a piece of paper taped to the top of the tent.

“He left some instructions,” said Ringo.

“Read the damn note Ringo! Can’t you see it is dark?” ordered Jane.

Ringo illuminated the piece of paper with his flashlight.

“He says for everyone to stay here for the night and don’t leave until eleven in the morning. Once we get to the halfway point to FEMA Camp 43 he wants everyone to dismount, secure the horses and be as quiet as possible and to stay low. He also says to stay out of sight from the FEMA guard towers.”

“Duh! Men!” said the redheaded Jane.

“He also says for Lynn to keep the dog pack at this campsite tonight and don’t forget to feed them before hitting the One Way Trail. They get antsy when they are hungry.”

Major and Sarge were sitting beside Lynn. She began to panic when she realized that the Jack Russell terrier was missing too.

“Schultz! Schultz!” yelled Lynn.

Jane walked over to Lynn’s tent and peered inside. She then knelt down and started to throw sleeping bags and blankets around.

“He’s not in here!” she yelled.

“Dammit! I bet that little shit snuck in Francis’s saddle bag before he left! He wouldn’t have written dog pack on that note if he was taking Schultz,” said Lynn.

“Francis will find out sometime soon if Schultz if riding with him,” said Ringo.

“You don’t know that little dog like I do Ringo. Schultz will wait until he is sure that Francis is well past the halfway point or far away from here before he makes a move or sound.  He will make sure that Francis won’t bring him back to this camp,” said Lynn.

“She’s right! That brat pulls that trick all the damn time! What are we going to do?” asked Emily.

At first no one offered any solutions. The three female scouts were standing on the upper part of the campsite with Ringo figuring out what to do next as Doc and his one wheeled cart proceeded to pass by them on the trail. Doc had the headlights on his one wheeled cart on low beam. The old man continued to pass by without saying a word.

“I guess we have our answer. It looks like we are going across the most dangerous part of the trail at night. Being wet, having puddles on the trail and dealing with slippery conditions doesn’t matter I guess,” said Ringo.

“Doc! Doc! Stop! Stop!” yelled the Night Ranger while hopping off the elevated ledge of the campsite.

The old man halted his horse and turned on his bench seat to face the Night Ranger.

“Where do you think you are going old man?” she asked.

“I am headed to FEMA Camp 43 to meet up with Francis.”

“How did you know that he is not here?” demanded Lynn.

“He’s not? I didn’t know that but I figured after I got off the notebook computer with him that he would be slipping away the first opportunity he got. As I said, he is one determined young man when it comes to this FEMA Camp 43. I am going to meet up with him right now!”

“Not tonight you’re not! You ain’t leaving until eleven in the morning. That is what Francis wants and that is what Francis is gonna’ get.”

“I think that is a mistake young lady.”

“It may be but that is the instructions he left on our tent.”

“Listen to you of all people. You and Francis never listen to anyone when it comes to instructions.”

“Anyone is not Francis. You will leave at eleven in the morning. That will give the trail a chance to dry it and we will be able to see.”

Doc turned and flipped his reins to continue on his journey. The Night Ranger drew her Colt 1911, quickly attached a shot suppressor and shot the one rubber wheel on his cart. The tire instantly went flat.

“Dammit girl! That was not nice!”

Ringo looked at the Night Ranger and nodded his head in agreement. Jane and Emily had looks of surprise on their faces. They had seen behavior like this before with the Pale Rider.

“What or who gives you the authority to tell everyone what to do Lynn?” asked Doc angrily.

“Are you fucking the Reaper?” she shot back.

Doc glared at the gorgeous brunette for a brief moment, then relaxed.

“No!” he exclaimed.

“I am, so shut up and do what I say.”

Then she turned and went to her tent in the campsite. Ringo and the thirty Free America scouts dismounted preparing to stay for the rest of the night. Most had grins on their young faces. One young man, who was still a teenager, was laughing.

“What are you laughing about…boy?” asked the redheaded Calamity Jane.

The young man froze.

“Nothing ma’am, nothing! I was just recalling a joke Ringo had told us on the trail earlier.”

Jane moved closer to the young scout. He was a good looking young man.

“You better learn early on not to mess with any of the bitches from Free America. Once you get settled in for the night why don’t you come over to that tent over there for a visit.”

“For real?” he asked nervously.

“For real,” replied Jane.

“I will be over to your tent just as soon as Ringo tells everyone to get some rest for the night.”

“My tent? I didn’t say that was my tent.”

Ringo was standing behind the young man watching and listening. He had been on the trail many times with Jane and Emily.

“Whose tent is it?”

“That is the Black Widow’s tent.”

Now the young man was really nervous. He had heard tales about the Black Widow and Calamity Jane from Ringo and other experienced scouts.

“That’s enough Janie. Seth, go set up your pup tent for the night,” ordered Ringo.

The young man scrambled away with his bedroll.

“Ringo, you are such a party pooper sometimes,” said Jane.

“I will be over for a visit to your campfire and to share some whiskey with you and Em but we can’t get shit faced Janie. I fear tomorrow is going to be a rough day.”

“It probably will be.”

“Ringo! We need to fix my flat!” yelled Doc.

“We will fix it when it gets light!” replied Ringo.

Jane could hear the old man grumbling but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“He will be okay. That one wheeled cart converts to a camper complete with an air mattress. Let me get my boys settled in for the night and I will be right over. It will take me around an hour.”

Ringo left to take care of his duties. Jane went into her and Emily’s tent.

“Lynn seemed upset about Francis splitting early but I think she got a grip on herself, I am sure she is fuming in the tent,” said Jane.

“Yeah she did get a little upset but I think we better keep an eye on her or at least her horse,” answered Emily.

“I think so too. Ringo is coming to our tent to party as soon as he gets his security perimeters established. After all, there are only two ways in and out of camp so we can relax for tonight. Lynn will settle down and we can ask her to join us once Ringo gets here. She needs two good friends tonight.”

Ringo joined Jane and Emily exactly one hour later.

“Hey, where are the German Shepherds?” was the first thing Ringo asked.

Jane looked at Emily with surprise written all over her face.

“They are probably in their tent Ringo. You know, those two are spoiled brats. They have their own tent,” said Jane.

“I looked in the tent. There are no dogs in there.”

Jane and Emily looked at each other once again for a brief moment and scrambled out of their tent.

“Lynn! Lynn!” yelled Jane.

She ran to the Night Rangers tent and looked inside.

“She ain’t home!”

“Maybe she is going to the bathroom in the boulders!” said Emily.

“Butch is still tied up. She must be here somewhere,” said Ringo.

The two female scouts ran into the boulders calling her name. After two minutes of frantic searching they returned to the campsite.

“Holy shit! She ain’t here and neither are the two German Shepherds!” exclaimed Jane.

Ringo and the two female scouts jumped down on the hardpan trail and started to walk to the west. On the way they passed by Doc who was sitting on the bench seat of his one wheeled cart, sipping on a small bottle of Jack Daniels and looking at the night sky with his binoculars.

“No sense in going into a sheer panic people. Lynn stopped and spoke with me fifty five minutes ago,” said the old man calmly while smoking one of the cigars Lynn always smoked.

“Doc! Why didn’t you say something?” asked Emily.

“Because the Night Ranger had that fancy gun on her back and told me she could shoot the balls off a gnat from a thousand feet away. Look to the west and see. That head lamp you see going up the trail is her and those two German Shepherds. She ordered me to tell everyone to stay here until eight in the morning. She made me promise, well, she and those damn German Shepherds made me promise to stay put. I didn’t want to get dog bit. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me not to worry. She said she and the dogs could traverse the thousand feet on the One Way trail in the dark. I sat here and watched. That is what she did and let me tell you, she didn’t walk. She and those mutts ran down that trail.”

Jane, Emily and Ringo turned just in time to see a light disappear over a distant ridge.

“Smart girl! She walked! It supposedly ain’t that far to FEMA Camp 43 from here,” said Ringo.

“No it’s not that far from here. If she keeps up the pace she was setting, she and those mutts should be getting there at just about sunrise. There is no sense in getting all worked up now. We are going to need the horses tomorrow. The One Way Trail is too dangerous to be riding on a horse at night when everything is wet. I suggest everyone get a little sleep and let’s see how wet the ground is when the sun is up,” said Doc.

“Shit!” exclaimed Jane.

Doc looked at the volatile redhead and frowned.

“Shit what?” he asked.

The redhead fumed for a few seconds but suddenly calmed down after talking with Doc.

“Love can sure make a woman do crazy things for a man!” she hissed.

“It sure can. Go back to your tent and get some sleep for the night,” said the old man.

“How did she get past my guards?” asked Ringo.

Doc laughed.

“You were too slow Ringo! She slipped out the first minute after she entered her tent. I bet if you go look there is a big rip in the back of that tent from a Bowie knife,” answered Doc.

Jane and Emily went to the Night Ranger’s tent and there was a big slice in the back panel. Emily walked over to where Sarge and Major were quartered to see the same type of damage to the canvas. Lynn had cut both tents and slipped out of the backside of the camp in the dark.

“I won’t be able to get any sleep tonight!” exclaimed Jane.

“Come on ladies, you promised to do a little sharing with that Jack Daniels bottle you have in the tent. Let’s go have a few sips and relax for now. There is nothing we can do until the sun is up,” said Ringo.

Jane looked at Emily and winked.

“I guess that is all we can do for now,” said Jane.

“You might as well tell your two guards to get some rest for the night Ringo. Ain’t nobody coming down the trail from that direction since the Shepherds and Lynn went that way,” said Emily.

“You are right about that! Boys, go get some sleep for tonight!” ordered Ringo.

The two male scouts guarding the west end of the trail left to get some much needed sleep.

Jane, Emily and Ringo retired to the female scouts’ tent and started to take a few shots of Jack Daniels, chasing the beverage with Pepsi.

Five minutes later Ringo was passed out in the tent.

“I knew that date rape drug would come in handy some day,” said Jane.

The two female scouts went to their horses and grabbed both Big X assault rifles along with a backpack filled with extra seven hundred and fifty round drums.

“What about Doc?” asked Emily.

“Doc won’t squeal on us. If he does he knows I will shoot him…somewhere.”

As the two women passed by Doc’s cart they found him still sitting on his bench seat sipping on a whiskey bottle with his binoculars slung around his old wrinkled neck.

“Wow! That didn’t take long did it? That GHB is a nifty drug when you need it,” said Doc.

“What?” asked Emily.

“Emily, sometimes you are so naïve. Doc gave me the stuff to knock out Ringo. See you in a few hours and thanks a lot… lover,” said Jane with a subdued laugh.

She gave the old man a kiss on his cheek. Doc could not suppress the grin on his old wrinkled face.

“You two be careful and don’t run across that ledge like Lynn did. You have plenty of time to catch up with her before sunrise. Promise?”

“I promise Doc!” answered Jane.

Then the two women took off at a trot.

Doc watched them during their journey over the One Way Trail. Fifteen minutes later the two women disappeared over the same ridge the Night Ranger had crossed thirty minutes earlier.

“Well, at least they didn’t run too fast. I love those two girls,” he mumbled to himself as he settled down on the air mattress in the back of his one wheeled cart.

* * * * *

Chapter Eighteen

American Holocaust

Lynn was moving along the high mountain trail to FEMA Camp 43 on foot at a brisk pace. She had set a fast pace for the last two hours because the air was cool, just right for jogging, and the moon was three quarters full which offered some light to help deal with the rugged terrain. She still relied heavily on her head lamp to navigate the trail but having two German Shepherds as escorts helped tremendously. At least having Major and Sarge took out the fear of stepping on a rattlesnake in the dark or running across a mountain lion on the prowl. The female scout was thankful that she had had the foresight to shove a gallon of water in her backpack before leaving the campsite and traversing the One Way Trail. The additional water had added to the weight in her backpack and made her trip more strenuous but two hours later the two German Shepherds were already thirsty from her fast pace. Lynn stopped running and sat on a nearby boulder to give her and the German Shepherds a break. After catching her breath she retrieved a small plastic water bowl from her backpack. She filled the bowl and the two German Shepherds drank slowly, sharing with each other. The two Shepherds had performed this drill before and knew that sharing was important as well as drinking the water slowly. They were like their master, not in any hurry.

“Are you guys doing okay?” she asked with concern in her voice.

Both of the German Shepherds wagged their tales and nuzzled her legs as if letting her know they were doing fine. The big brown German Shepherd suddenly turned his large head, perked his ears and began to emit a low growl looking back down the trail they had just traveled. Then he started to wag his tail.

Lynn removed the assault rifle from her back and moved behind a large boulder nearby. She was worried that possibly a mountain lion was stalking her. She knew that no human could possibly be following her and her dogs traversing the dangerous One Way Trail in the dark.

She waited for five minutes in the shadows and soon she saw two familiar figures advancing rapidly up the trail in her direction. She smiled and stepped out of the shadows.

“I told you two to stay put until morning! You two are starting to behave like the mutts!” she exclaimed with a laugh stepping out of the shadows.

She was happy to see her two best friends. The two German Shepherds began to jump around the two arriving scouts and were wagging their tales rapidly. They too, were happy to see Jane and Emily.

The two fatigued scouts sat on two nearby boulders out of breath. They had pushed their limits attempting to catch up with the Night Ranger.

“Water?” asked Lynn.

They both nodded their heads yes. Lynn handed them her canteen and they both took small sips.

“Damn girl! I haven’t hiked like that since…, since the day you were freed from FEMA Camp 37!” gasped Jane.

“And we were riding horses then! This has been brutal so far! I’m beginning to think you don’t love us anymore!” added Emily trying to catch her breath.

Lynn said nothing at first. Finally she spoke because her two friends could not.

“Thanks for looking out for me, girls. That means a lot to me. More than you both will ever know. Those lights up ahead over that ridge must be FEMA Camp 43. I would say we are four miles away, maybe a little farther. I haven’t seen a thing since I left the camp, but the dogs are signing on Francis’ trail. How did you ladies get away from Ringo and Doc?”

Both women laughed between gasps of air.

“We drugged Ringo thanks to a little help from Doc. I am sure that half breed is gonna’ be mad when he comes to but he will get over it. He is used to me and Em’s nonsense. The scouts won’t be leaving until eight in the morning. Doc gave us his word,” replied Jane.

Lynn smirked.

“Don’t count on that. I know that old man, Ringo and his scouts. They will be leaving the minute there is acceptable daylight, more like six o’clock,” replied Lynn.

The two female scouts were finally getting to the point to where they could converse consistently.

“Did Francis ever tell you what he was going to do with FEMA Camp 43…exactly?” asked Jane.

“You know Francis. The answer is no. He just said all he had to do is get within eight hundred yards of the wall where a bunch of his explosive rocks are located. You guys were involved in the destruction of FEMA Camp 37 both times. Maybe you know more than you realize,” said Lynn.

Both women nodded their heads yes.

“The first time we blew up FEMA Camp 37 I remember Zak carrying a few of those remote control boxes that look like television controllers. Every now and then Zak would pull one of those remotes out of his old jacket. He would then hold it over his head and press a button and boom! A big explosion would fire off somewhere. Scott and Ringo were in charge the second time. There were three definite explosions when we blew up FEMA Camp 37 that day. The first explosion was a big one, a real big one. The next two weren’t as large but they were large enough,” answered Emily.

Lynn sat on her boulder looking at the lighted sky over FEMA Camp 43 in the distance while petting Major’s large brown head.

“I think there is going to be only one large explosion this time. I love that man dearly but right now I am so mad at him I could sic the dogs on him,” she said softly.

“Francis cutting out on us tells me one thing. He was worried about us getting badly hurt or even killed so this must be one dangerous ride. He is going to blow up FEMA Camp 43 anytime now. He might not wait for anyone,” said Jane.

“Have you ever had a lover, Jane?” asked Lynn.

Jane became very quiet. Lynn could tell that she had stirred some emotions in the redhead. Finally she answered.

“I was married one time to a good man. He was a writer and lived in Las Vegas. Unfortunately for us, he was an opinionated political writer for several internet blogs at the time that was critical of Homeland Security, the presidential dictator and the government. The President was signing executive orders right and left back then. When he signed an executive order declaring a backdoor martial law in the country, Jack was sounding the alarm over the internet, letting everyone know the Prez was setting himself up to become a dictator. Jack was telling everyone there wouldn’t be any elections a year before the elections were to be held and he was right. When the food riots started in the cities and the dollar collapsed that summer was when the dictator actually became the dictator by signing the Rex84 executive order into law. The next day after Rex84 was signed I was grocery shopping at WalMart because everyone was in panic mode trying to save up on food and supplies. When I turned on the street where we lived there were police cars in the driveway and Homeland Security vehicles everywhere. The government took Jack out of my house on a stretcher and that was the last time I saw him. I was lucky to get away that day. It was the worst day of my life.”

“Did you ever hear of what happened to your husband?” asked Lynn.

“Yes I did. He was executed by a firing squad for exercising his freedom of speech rights by Homeland Security in FEMA Camp 37 two weeks later. I had family in Ely, Nevada and that is where I fled. After six months of laying low and watching the government place millions of people into FEMA camps to perform slave labor I heard about the Free America movement in Nevada. After making some contacts I met Zak in the Ruby Mountains one day. The old man agreed to give me a chance to fight the tyranny if I could handle the emotional and physical requirements of being a scout.  I have been a scout ever since. I know I am lucky to still be alive and free. Now days, I think about Jack every now and then but it is a distant memory.”

“That is a sad story Janie. I’m sorry I didn’t…”

“There is no need to apologize Lynn! Jack was a good man but he wasn’t the fighting type, at least when it came to killing people with weapons. Jack liked to fight with words and he lost that fight. I still wake up sometimes and find it hard to believe that I am the fighting type that kills the enemy. I would have never believed that if you had told me that ten years or even five years ago. I was a happy house wife hoping one day to have a pack of kids, not a pack of dogs.”

Lynn laughed and then Emily joined in. Finally Jane laughed along with them.

“You never know Janie. You may get your wish one of these days. Let me know when you girls are ready to move. There is no hurry. We will walk the rest of the way and let the German Shepherds do some scouting for us. We are right on Francis’ trail.”

“How do you know for sure?”

Lynn smiled and then pointed at a boulder twenty feet away. Sarge had lifted his leg and was peeing on the boulder.

“Francis must have discovered Schultz in the saddle bag and turned him loose. Sarge is making his mark and Sarge hardly ever does that on the trail. He usually goes on a boulder off the trail to avoid Schultz and his little shit fits.”

“It must be nice to know how these dogs act,” sighed Emily.

“I took a crash course but I had a good teacher,” answered Lynn while getting off the boulder she had been sitting on.

Jane and Emily took that as their cue to get moving towards FEMA Camp 43. That is what the three female scouts and the two German Shepherds did in the dark of night.

* * * * *

The sun was just beginning to rise on the eastern horizon.

“You have my flat fixed, Ringo?” asked Doc.

“We are ready to ride. I hitched Francis’ one wheeled cart to the mule named Cleopatra. I think that is the one who normally pulls that wagon and we have the Night Ranger, Calamity Jane and the Black Widow’s horses tethered to the cart to follow. If we take it slow we should be okay getting across the ledge.”

“I think we are going to need that special cart in a few hours. How does the trail look?” asked the old man.

“I sent a couple of men out to scout the trail’s surface. It looks okay. On some of the slick spots we threw some granulated sand on the surface just to be sure but we ran out about halfway across. This trail isn’t that bad compared to others we have traveled on before.”

“You mean others like the Nightmare Trail?”

“Precisely,” answered Ringo.

“That is not a comforting thought amigo. I hate that damn trail.  How many times have you been across the Nightmare Trail?”

“I went across that trail one time, with Little Jimbo and Big Jimbo. Me and Big Jimbo vowed we would take a beating before doing that again,” answered the half breed stoically.

Doc laughed.

“Don’t act like traveling across that trail didn’t affect you, you hard headed Injun! Besides, Little Jimbo is the last person on this Earth that I would ride with on that trail! That was not a wise move for an Injun, or for anyone for that matter, to ride with Little Jimbo across the Nightmare Trail!” exclaimed Doc.

Ringo laughed, which he rarely did.

“That might explain why the Pale Rider is so damn mean. When we rode with him he jumped up out of his stirrups to stand on his saddle with both feet to make fun of our fear. That scout is tashunke witke!”

“What does that mean Ringo?” asked Doc.

“Crazy,” he replied.

“I will have to remember that phrase. Let’s get moving but pass the word to take it slow. It is only one thousand feet across this trail and we shouldn’t have any problems as long as we stay alert.”

“Do you want me to ride with you Doc?” asked Ringo.

“Thanks for the offer young man but I will be fine. I took a few sedatives before getting in my cart this morning.”

“Doc! You shouldn’t be injecting drugs!”

“I didn’t you knucklehead! I took a few stiff shots of Jack Daniels! You boys ain’t the only ones who drink whiskey around here! Let’s go!”

The column of scouts proceeded across the One Way Trail without any major problems. It took them forty five minutes to complete the task. Once on the other side the group took a quick break to settle their nerves. During the trip two horses temporarily lost their footing but because they were mountain horses the horses recovered quickly.  The scouts riding the horses thankfully had not fallen out of their saddles to fall to their death but they were shaken.

“That was a slippery trail,” said Doc taking a quick sip of Jack Daniels out of a small flask after completing the dangerous ride.

The old man had been very nervous because of his fear of heights. Everyone was a bit rattled by the experience. Ringo dismounted his ride and was poking around on the perimeter of the trail while his scouts recovered.

“The Night Ranger is four to five hours ahead of us if we were walking. With the horses we can chop that time.  We will have to set a fast pace to catch up with the ladies by nine o’clock. I can tell that from this point the ladies and the two German Shepherds are traveling light.”

“What do you mean traveling light?” asked Doc.

Ringo grinned once again, which was rare.

“There are two big piles of dog poop beside that big boulder. The dogs are ready to run.”

Doc grimaced and then smiled.

“That is some good scouting Ringo! I can’t believe that you guys didn’t win the west having scouting ability like that! How far behind the Night Ranger is Janie and Em?”

“I am not sure but when I see them we are going to have a serious pow wow!”

“Now, now Ringo! Those two girls really love you! They love you enough to knock you out without bopping you on your hard head. Tell the men to focus, stay alert and let’s get moving as fast as we can. We are getting short on time!”

Ringo nodded his head and mounted his horse. He set off in the direction of FEMA Camp 43 at a fast trot, a very fast trot. The thirty scouts from Free America followed their leader leaving Doc to plod along with the carts, the three mules and the female scouts’ horses. Within ten minutes the Free America scouts were out of Doc’s sight.

The old man reached under his seat and pulled out an automatic sawed off shotgun, laying the weapon on his lap.

“Great! Leave me here all alone with no scouts, no dogs and a pack of stubborn mules!” he muttered to know one in particular.

He flicked his reins to pick up his pace and to his surprise, the mules picked up their pace.

“All right! We have smart mules! I might get to see Francis this morning after all, before he blows up Northern Nevada! You’re doing good Cleopatra, Justine and uh, whatever the hell your name is!” exclaimed the old man while turning around on his bench seat to view the mules.

* * * * *

Lynn, Jane and Emily had been walking thirty minutes in the wee hours of the morning when the two German Shepherds started to act…excited.  Both of the German Shepherds were running to and from the three female scouts and then to a break in the big boulders lining the left side of the high mountain trail.

“What is going on with the dogs? They both are acting like…Lassie!” said Emily.

“Yes, that is exactly like they acting like, when the old farmer fell down the well!” said Jane.

“Let’s go see what is over there in the break in those boulders. Something must have them all excited. I hope it ain’t a big cat,” said Lynn.

The three women moved to their left where there was a definite gap in the large granite boulders. Lynn shined her head lamp to the south in the general direction of where the two dogs were pointing only to see air.

“What is with that? It looks like a cliff ahead twenty or thirty yards. Oh ho! I see some tracks on the ground though!” she exclaimed aiming her head lamp at the ground. Jane and Emily did the same.

“Those are definitely tracks and the horseshoe imprint looks like one from the livery stable at the Secondary Base. There must be a horse trail ahead somewhere. That cliff might actually be the top of a trail going down to the floor of the valley,” added Jane.

The two German Shepherds sat down next to Lynn looking straight ahead while their tales brushed the ground. Lynn thought both of the dogs were acting odd but for why she didn’t know for sure.

“Let’s take a look but we need to kill these lights. Francis said something about a highway that runs along the floor of the valley. We don’t want to get careless and be spotted by some Homeland Security checkpoint guards patrolling on some road if there is a road down there somewhere,” said Lynn.

All three ladies turned off their head lamps.

“Damn, it is dark out even with a three quarter moon! Let’s stand here for a minute or two until our eyes get adjusted. These big ass boulders are casting some long dark shadows and I don’t want to be walking off the edge of any damn cliff. We can’t see as well as those two Shepherds!” hissed Emily.

The three women froze on the left side of the trail in the shadow of a boulder that was twenty feet in height. After one minute the female scouts about jumped out of their mountain boots.

“Bang, bang, bang! You three are dead!” said a low gruff voice coming out of the dark shadows immediately to their right.

At the same time there were three short, high pitched barks. The women nearly fell over backwards for a brief moment.

“Francis, you dick head!” exclaimed Jane.

Lynn turned on her head lamp and shined it on the Reaper who was sitting on Midnight with Schultz sitting on his saddle. The small dog was wagging his tail rapidly and Francis was grinning. The man and his small dog were less than ten feet away from the three female scouts.

Lynn ran over to her man and he leaned off Midnight to give her a long kiss.

“Thank God you are okay! What are trying to do, give me premature gray hairs?” asked Lynn.

“If that was my man and he pulled a stunt like Francis just did I wouldn’t give him any pussy for a month! Why didn’t the German Shepherds warn us?” asked Emily.

Francis held up the dog whistle that was on a chain around his neck waving it to and fro in front of his face.

“I see you ladies followed the instructions on my note to the letter. I told you all to wait until the One Way Trail dried out and here we are, going across a dangerous high trail that is soaking wet in the middle of the night. I don’t want to hear another word about Schultz or the Shepherds not minding anymore. How far behind you three is Doc, Ringo and the rest of the scouts?”

“Doc promised me he would wait until eight, ten or…hell if I know,” answered Lynn.

She was happy to see her man and didn’t care to discuss Doc and his actions. All she wanted was for Francis to dismount Midnight so she could give him a real hug.  That is what Francis did and that is what she did.

“Okay, okay you two, get a tent somewhere. Good Lord!” said Jane.

Francis smiled at the redhead.

“Well, since this involves Doc that means Doc and his escorts will be leaving at first light. That should work out okay but I bet him and Ringo are right behind you three even if they left at first light. Ringo will be here within an hour because he and his scouts can travel fast. Doc might be late getting here.”

“No, Janie drugged Ringo so they could sneak out. He won’t be waking up until Doc gives him a shot to wake his ass up,” said Lynn.

Francis shook his head.

“Doc will do what ever he has to do to get Ringo up and about. You three are out of control. You gotta’ stop doing stuff like that…Janie.”

Jane faked surprise.

“How do you know that it was me Francis? It could have been Em!” exclaimed Jane.

“I believe that! Ain’t much difference between you two when it comes to dealing with horny men.”

All four scouts laughed…softly. From experience they knew that the federal government more than likely had listening devices mounted on the walls of the FEMA camp that were directed down the valley.

“So why are we sitting here?” asked Emily.

“This is the only horse trail that goes down to the dry creek bed and the four lane highway to FEMA Camp 43 and I wanted you ladies to know that. It is another three miles, roughly, to that big sheer wall I was telling you about earlier. When you get to that wall you can look down directly into FEMA Camp 43 but you can’t do much else. Between here and there are four footpaths you can use to get down off the mountain and every one of them are switchback trails. All of them are narrow as hell but you can navigate them if you are slow and careful. They are steep and with one misstep you will find yourself dead from a fall. Most of the falls would be at least one hundred feet and some are a lot more than that.”

Schultz could contain himself no longer and jumped off of Midnight. He hit the ground with all fours, took four steps and jumped up to land in Lynn’s arms, licking her face.

“When did you find out you had a stowaway?” she asked.

Francis grinned and sighed.

“About twenty minutes ago. He had to pee as usual and sat up in the saddle bag. I couldn’t believe it because I know I checked that bag before I led Midnight out of the camp. He must have jumped from a high boulder onto the saddle and slipped into the bag without me noticing. He knew I was keeping an eye on our tents giving you girls the slip. I crept up behind Major and Sarge’s tent and commanded them to stay before I left.”

“Good boys,” said Lynn giving them a dog biscuit, the first one going to the alpha male.

“So what do we do now?” asked Jane.

“We still have four hours until the sun is fully up. Let’s leave Midnight here with the Shepherds to guard him and I will take the three of you to show you where the four foot trails are in case we need them today. Hopefully we won’t. Then we come back here and wait for Doc, Ringo and the scouts. I will inform them then on what is gonna’ happen today.”

“This trail is what you are gonna’ use to get down to the valley? Won’t they see you when it gets daylight?” asked Lynn.

“No. You will see this morning. This is heavily forested area. I have used this trail countless times to take my explosions down to the creek bed and place them at the base of FEMA Camp 43’s big wall. I did that when it was dark, grant you, but there are thousands of big trees growing on the sides of this mountain and all the other mountains in the area. We will hump it up the high trail, take a quick look with the binoculars, mark the foot trails in the boulders and get back here to meet up with Doc. I don’t want those knuckleheads going any farther up the trail. There are four tall guard towers in front of the FEMA camp wall and I am sure they have lookouts.”

“How tall are these towers?” asked Jane.

“The wall, or building, is three hundred feet high. The towers are one hundred feet taller. As long as you stay close to the boulders on the south side of the trail they won’t see you. Up ahead, you will see that trail is a good forty feet in width. If you were on a horse, those guards could see your head if you were on the north side of the trail riding near the mountain wall. Everyone is gonna’ have to act like…scouts. Our lives will depend on that. We don’t want to be fired upon with fifty five caliber machine guns less than a half a mile away that are mounted in those tall towers. That could get real nasty.”

Francis secured Midnight’s reins to a boulder and turned to Major and Sarge. First of all, he pointed at Midnight.

“Major, Sarge, Midnight…schutz!” he ordered.

The two big Shepherds sat down ten feet away from the black stallion.

“What about Schultz?” asked Lynn.

“He is low to the ground and will come in handy if we run across any rattlers during our midnight stroll. We won’t be able to shoot any snake because the guards on the road and stationed in the towers would hear that.  Let’s go ladies. We ain’t got all night!”

Then he started to head west at a brisk walk.

“Keep an eye on your watch Janie! We don’t want to miss Doc!”

“I am carrying my notebook computer in my back pack. When we get to wherever the hell we are going I will have Em get in touch with him, just to be sure.”

“Smart girl,” muttered Francis.

After sixty minutes of moving fast the four scouts and little dog were crouched behind several large and small boulders high on the trail. In front of them rose a sheer wall of granite and limestone that soared six hundred feet into the dark Nevada sky.

“That wall is not only high as hell it is also wide! It is part of the east wall of FEMA Camp 43,” said Jane softly.

Below the four scouts was FEMA Camp 43. The interior of the massive FEMA camp stretched to the end of the large box canyon which was a good six miles away. The box canyon was just like its description, a box. The camp was six miles wide and was packed with buildings on every brightly lit street. Some of the buildings were tall, twenty stories in height and some were smaller. There were a few one story buildings dotting the landscape here and there but not many. By any measure, FEMA Camp 43 would fall in the class of being a large city.

Looking down the scouts could see a lot of activity on the wide streets of the camp in the wee hours of the morning. There were many small and large box trucks along with powered electric carts scurrying here and there. Using binoculars the four scouts could see thousands and thousands of people performing various duties and moving from place to place. All were wearing the standard issue black uniforms of a FEMA inmate with the big orange letters on the back that read FEMA.

“Man, that brings back some dreary memories for me,” said Lynn.

They continued to use the binoculars for several more minutes scoping out the camp when Francis spoke.

“Look to the far right corner of the camp right next to this sheer wall. It is the street with all the bright lights shining directly down on the pavement,” he said softly.

The three women turned their heads looking through their binoculars at the corner of the camp Francis had specified. At first the three women didn’t realize what they were viewing. When they did they gasped.

On a wide street that was two city blocks long was a long line of people, six abreast, mostly elderly, chained together by their necks and arms. All of the chained people were naked, standing in the middle of the street. On each side of the wide street standing on the sidewalks were a hundred or so FEMA guards in black uniforms and helmets. The three female scouts could clearly see the bright yellow insignia of Homeland Security on the backs of the black clad guards’ uniforms. Some of the guards were carrying automatic rifles, some were carrying what looked to be taser guns and every guard had a long club in one hand or the other. The people in the six long lines were slowly moving through some massive double metal doors that were open in a six or seven story building that was tucked into the far corner of FEMA Camp 43. The chimneys on the building were belching out black smoke.

“This can’t be happening!” exclaimed Lynn.

“It is. That building contains the gas ovens. Look at all the black smoke pouring out of those chimneys. The government usually runs the ovens late at night or early in the morning to hide the black smoke rising in the sky. Those FEMA inmates in those lines are no longer useful to the federal government for some reason or another. A lot of them are transfers from other FEMA camps like FEMA camp 37 when it was up and running. I see quite a few wheelchairs in those six lines this morning. The guards will seize those wheelchairs right before they move the crippled person into the ovens to use them again. They just throw the handicapped person on the floor, the heartless fuckers,” answered Francis.

Lynn began to cry softly. Soon Jane and Emily started to cry too.

“Those bastards! Oh my God! I see some children in the lines too!”

Francis looked at the lines closer with his high powered binoculars.

“Those are kids who have something like polio or maybe have been determined by the feds to be mentally retarded. Something is physically or mentally wrong with them according to the government. Sometimes, when I have been up here before, I have seen lines of nothing but kids. a lot of them in wheelchairs.”

“You have seen this before?” asked Jane.

Francis lowered his binoculars and nodded his head yes.

“I have been here many times the past three years and seen many horrible things. Every time I leave after viewing what you are witnessing now makes me more determined to stop this shit. Now you three know why I have been trying to get back to FEMA Camp 43. FEMA Camp 37 pales in comparison. This is why this camp is located so far from nowhere but you can’t deceive me. Most of these assholes in the federal government know what is going on here. You can’t tell me otherwise and there are a lot of FEMA Camps with incinerators on site. You used to be able to find them on the internet when there was an internet.”

By now all three of the female scouts were crying softly while using their binoculars.

“Does this happen every day?”

“It happens every day. The government ships these poor people in by bus and truck from all over the west coast. Most of the FEMA camps are set up for slave labor so nobody sees this. This camp is set up for productivity and extermination. I imagine if any FEMA camp is isolated in the continental United States this is happening there. It makes you wonder what is going on in that big camp in Alaska which is really out in the middle of nowhere. I am going to end it today in Nevada.”

“I am with you Francis, no matter what happens,” said Lynn while wiping the tears off her cheek.

The four scouts watched for ten more minutes. Every now and then a guard would step off the sidewalk and incapacitate someone who would emotionally break down, protest or start to resist.

“If you are in that line chained up you are dead,” said Jane softly.

“That is true,” replied Francis.

After ten minutes the women had had enough. The walk back to where Midnight was tethered was a long and silent one for all three of the female scouts. Finally the Night Ranger spoke.

“God, I wish we could kill them all,” said Lynn.

“We can get two thirds of their ranks today. Hopefully, the inmates join in to get the stragglers,” replied Francis.

“What do you mean?” asked Jane.

“There is a shift change at noon. That is when the guards who live in Black Ridge and the surrounding areas come on duty and the ones who are on duty now leave to go home. That is sixty six thousand FEMA and Homeland Security thugs. When my bombs go off, every electric magnetic lock in FEMA Camp 43 is gonna’ fail. No doors will be locked because all the relays, power management systems and stuff like that are located in that big ass building that serves as a wall. My blast is going to kill a lot of them initially. I am hoping that the inmates will view it as a time for some payback. Plus Doc is here with thirty scouts with their horses. They will be able to move through the camp to kill the stragglers who survive the blast. I sent Scott an email yesterday with my plan. He is headed this way with a thousand men equipped with Stingers and surface to air missiles to fend off the United States military because they will be coming to retake the camp. And there will be thirty three thousand guards called into action from Black Ridge. They will be rolling down that four lane highway but I think Scott’s men can handle that. I was planning on just blowing up the wall and for the inmates to escape into the mountains but Zak wants to take the camp and convert it into a Free America stronghold. He says it will send a message to the other resistance groups in the States and FEMA Camp 43 will become the first free American city from federal tyranny. Zak is one ambitious old fart.”

“It sounds like one of his wing it plans to me but after what I have just seen it is worth a try, no matter how many scouts get killed,” said Jane.

“I reckon so. At any rate, at noon I am going to blow up that damn wall. What happens after that will depend on the FEMA inmates, Scott and the reaction from the feds. I am sure they will be sending air support from Nellis and nearby bases in California but those military bases have their hands full right now with other resistance groups.  Plus I believe the feds don’t have the man or fire power they once had when they were spending fake money. Things have changed.  We are talking about two million people and most of them are young and healthy. It just depends on whether they want to be free or not I guess.”

“You are wrong about one thing Francis. Now there are two million and four people. And I know four of those people will fight for their freedom…to the death,” said Lynn.

Chapter Nineteen

Dying Large, Dying Small

It was now fifteen minutes until noon. It was a bright sunny day in Nevada and the weather was cool with not a cloud in the blue sky. Doc, Ringo and his thirty Free America scouts had arrived earlier than ten in the morning, just as Francis predicted. Francis had laid out a rough plan for the takedown of FEMA Camp 43, a plan that Doc felt was workable. Doc’s stamp of approval brought no comfort to Lynn.  Francis had left at eleven o’clock on Midnight navigating the only horse trail down to the creek bed. The young man gave Lynn a passionate kiss before leaving joking that he didn’t want to be late for work and that he would be a little late for dinner that night. Francis had been adamant in demanding that he and only he would be the one to detonate his bombs. Doc had argued with him intensely for ten minutes wanting him to detonate from the high trail but finally caved when Francis used Doc’s solar calculator to show him that the mile high location was more than eight hundred yards away from the detonators. Francis had pointed to two big boulders that were on each side of the dry creek bed and had said he needed to get to that point to activate his deadly explosives. Lynn was starting to get worried by her lover’s behavior but said nothing. She felt that those two big boulders were far too close to the FEMA wall.  She knew to say anything to her man would serve no purpose when the subject was FEMA Camp 43. The young man was determined to stop the holocaust of American citizens at any cost.

At five minutes to noon the plan Francis had outlined called for four of Doc’s scouts to paint, or laser target the four tall blue gun towers located at the front of FEMA Camp 43. The special one wheeled aluminum and stainless steel cart Doc and his Free America engineers had built for Francis, to the young scout’s specifications, would fire four high explosive surface to air missiles to take out the fifty five caliber machine gun nests installed on the top deck of the four blue towers. Francis had stated at the meeting this morning that that simple operation would give him the opportunity to get close enough to detonate his explosives without getting shot. No one knew exactly what that meant but Lynn along with everyone else was worried because of the statement Francis made next. He instructed everyone that if that didn’t happen for everyone to retreat down the One Way Trail as quickly as possible. Doc had asked the young man what the fuck did he mean by that but Francis ignored him. What worried Calamity Jane and Emily was the fact that they had known old Doc for many years and they had never seen him get angry and use such a profane word.

Scott the Liberator and his one thousand scout army were sneaking along the back trails making their way through the Sierra Nevada Mountains towards FEMA Camp 43, attempting to be as discreet as possible. Zak had issued a general order from the Secondary Base to all his Free America scouts in the wee hours of the morning ordering any five man patrols that were in Northern Nevada to head in the direction of FEMA Camp 43 now. Francis was finding out that he had more friends then he realized. Lynn was becoming acutely aware that this was a highly unorganized plan but for some reason that thought felt comforting to her. Francis had reassured her that all he needed was power and a little time, more power in the form of high explosives which he felt he now had and the time to get close to the wall. He assured the love of his life that he had achieved the goal of explosive power long before he met her, Janie and Em. Now he was feeling that the time he had spent with the Night Ranger had been uncomfortably short.

Ringo had twenty of his scouts with their horses located at the head of the isolated horse trail that Francis had showed his female scouts in the wee hours of the night and these scouts were ready to ride. Ringo and his scouts were to wait at the head of the trail until the blast occurred to be safe. Then they were to move down the dangerous steep trail, ride along the creek bed and enter FEMA Camp 43 through the breached wall to engage any surviving Homeland Security guards. From that point the scouts would support any FEMA inmates fighting to be free. Hopefully Scott and his scouts along with Zak’s five man patrols roaming in Northern Nevada would show up to lend a helping hand.  Doc and four of Ringo’s scouts were settled in the middle of some big boulders with the special one wheel cart at the last foot path on the high trail, close to where the big FEMA Camp 43 wall was located and the sheer wall of the mountain which marked the end of the trail. Doc was feeling nervous because it looked like he could reach out and touch the nearest blue gun tower or at least jump down from where he was located to land on the top deck. Doc had used his solar calculator to determine that taking refuge behind some large boulders at this point in the high trail would hopefully keep the female scouts and the four scouts helping him safe from the blast. He wasn’t too sure because of the amount of explosives Francis said he had planted and because of the type plus he didn’t know exactly where the young man had placed the explosives. All he and his four scouts were required to do was take out the four blue gun towers and then seek immediate shelter before Francis detonated his explosives so he figured the bigger the boulder, the better. All the horses, mules and Shepherds that traveled with Francis and his female scouts were secure two miles away where the horse trail and Ringo’s men were waiting. That only exception was Midnight who was with Francis somewhere down on the creek bed. It was a haphazard plan, but like a lot of haphazard plans that had been followed in American history, this plan might, with God’s blessing, work.

Lynn, Jane and Emily had elected to be with Doc at the front of the attack, near the FEMA Camp 43 wall. Doc had suggested the ladies stay with their horses and Ringo at the head of the trail but the three females vehemently said no to that action. The girls were not sure what role they were supposed to play other than help the old man but all three female scouts knew they would figure out something. They were not going to play the role of cheerleader. All three women had also brought their deadly assault rifles with plenty of extra seven hundred and fifty round drums.

“Man, I am getting nervous about this operation, Doc!” said Jane.

“It’s too late to be nervous now young lady. If we live through this do you and Em want to party with me tonight, make an old man happy?” he asked with a grin.

“That’s not funny Doc! But if everything goes according to plan me and Em will throw a party for you tonight that you might not survive! Are you ready to go Lynn?”

The Night Ranger had her Big X rifle in her hands and two spare drums attached to her gun belt that was hanging from her waist.

“I reckon I am ready as I ever will be Janie. Okay you four scouts. Light up those towers now! It is now five minutes until noon and Francis told me to not be late for this party! It’s show time Doc! Get ready with that remote control! Move it guys! Let me know when you have a lock on those towers!”

The Night Ranger had become…the Night Ranger. She was now in control and nobody doubted that.

Ringo’s four scouts were hidden between the large boulders by the last foot path. The guard towers were eight to nine hundred yards away from their location.

Within thirty seconds all four scouts verbally let the Night Ranger know they had targeted the four blue towers.

Doc was crouched down beside the one wheeled cart he had gifted Francis two weeks ago. The old man had a calm look on his face, as if he had done this before. The cart’s one wheel was secured to two stout boulders in the front and back of the wheel.

Lynn bowed her head and said a quick silent prayer. Jane and Emily did the same. Looking up Lynn gave her command.

“Doc, blow those bastards to hell,” she said softly

Doc pressed a button on the remote control and four, four foot missiles shot out of the front of the cart making a tremendous hiss in the air and creating large clouds of white smoke rolling across the high mountain trail that climbed the face of mountain. The four missiles seemed to hesitate for a brief second in mid air after exiting their respective tubes and then made a beeline for the four blue gun towers. It took less than three seconds for the missiles to make contact with the towers located at the front of the FEMA Camp 43 wall. The four gun towers violently exploded sending material and men’s bodies flying high into the air. The loud explosions rocked the canyon valley and served notice on the Homeland Security personnel in the FEMA camp that they were under attack.

It was strangely quiet for a long moment after the sound of the explosions subsided. Where the four blue towers once rose into the blue sky was replaced with four black stumps of smoking, blackened concrete. Lynn looked to her left to see a solitary figure riding a black stallion up the deep, dry creek bed. Below her she saw hundreds of black clad Homeland Security and FEMA guards pouring out of several doors at the base of the wall.

“Holy shit! I don’t think he planned on that!” she exclaimed.

The young female scout grabbed her Big X assault rifle and using several boulders as stepping stones climbed up to the tops of the big boulders that ran along the high trail.

“Lynn! What are you doing?” yelled Jane.

Stopping on the first large granite boulder that offered her a clear shot the Night Ranger opened up on the Homeland Security troops running below in the creek bed with her assault rifle that was set to fire seven hundred and fifty rounds per minute. She fired off a ten second burst and then jumped to the next tall boulder, repeating the process, pacing the ground troops running in the creek bed. Her shots and her aim were proving to be effective and true. There were many black clad Homeland Security guards lying on the bottom of the dry creek bed. Forty seconds later the Night Ranger was four boulders away and still firing away. She was staying up with the Homeland Security forces far below. Doc could see with his binoculars a large amount of bodies lying on the creek bed and men stumbling over the dead trying to get a bead on the angel of death killing them from high above..

Jane and Emily saw what the Night Ranger was accomplishing and grabbed their assault rifles, using the same small boulders to climb up to the tops of the big boulders. Soon the two deadly scouts with their chain guns were also on the top of the large boulders. They followed the Night Ranger’s path firing away with their Big X assault rifles at the men below.

“Let’s go scouts! Get those guns barking and give the girls some cover!” yelled Doc while grabbing an AK47 off the back of his one wheel cart.

While Lynn was hopping from boulder to boulder she kept sending a quick glance towards Francis, who was getting closer to FEMA Camp 43 by using the creek bed.

“There are too many of them!” she yelled.

No one could hear her for all the gunfire.

Reloading her spent drum she started her attack again, hopping to the next boulder. The dry creek bed was littered with dead bodies but more Homeland Security troops kept pouring out of the wall headed in Francis’ direction. There were hundreds of agents.

Francis spurred Midnight into a gallop.

“Holy shit!,” he exclaimed as he barreled down the creek bed in the direction of the wall and making the last turn towards FEMA Camp 43.

Bullets were flying over his head and through the air.

Lynn, Jane and Emily kept hopping along the tall boulders, drawing fire from below and from windows in the big wall, killing Homeland Security troops below. Doc could see bullet particles flying from the surfaces of the big boulders while the three female scouts were running on their rounded tops, hopping from boulder to boulder while continuing to pour streams of deadly bullets into the creek bed below. The three women never stayed in one place for even a second. They would continue to fire their weapon while in mid air in the act of jumping from one boulder to another.

After jumping to the ninth boulder, Lynn saw Francis and Midnight go down hard in the creek bed.

“No!” she screamed.

The Night Ranger loaded her final drum and blazed away at the Homeland Security forces in the creek bed that were at the point of the charge. Once the drum was spent she jumped down on the trail for cover looking for a foot trail that would take her down to the creek bed. Jane and Emily joined her, out of breath.

“They got Francis and Midnight!” exclaimed Jane.

Lynn was not crying out loud but tears were streaming down her face.

“Let me see your binoculars!”

Jane handed over the binoculars that were hanging from her neck. Lynn took them and peered down at the prone figures lying on the dry creek bed. She saw Midnight lying on his side and Francis lying face down in the sand behind him. Neither of them were moving.

The Homeland Security forces in the creek bed were advancing to where Francis was, firing as they went.

Jane and Emily squeezed between two boulders and opened up with their assault rifles once again.

“I am running out of bullets!” yelled Jane.

Lynn looked again at Francis with the binoculars.

“Wait! I see something moving in his saddle bag!”

Lynn watched as Schultz peered out of the right saddle bag. She could also see that the trigger remote was lying in the sand ten feet away from Francis.

“Oh no! Schultz is with Francis!”

She watched as bullets from the advancing Homeland Security forces sprayed columns of sand into the air near Midnight’s body.

“No!” she yelled.

She watched as the little dog jumped out of the saddle bag and crouched behind the black stallion’s body for protection.

“No!” she yelled again.

The brave little dog bolted into the open on the creek bed, using a zig zag pattern and grabbed the black remote in his mouth. Then he quickly made a u turn creating a cloud of dust and made a beeline for Francis. Four feet away from his master a NATO bullet hit the little dog in his lower back, causing him to spin three hundred and sixty degrees in the air. Schultz landed two feet away from Francis’ outstretched right arm.

Now Lynn was crying loudly while using the binoculars.

At first the little dog did not move. Then she watched as the terrier laboriously crawled towards Francis using his front legs, inch by inch. His rear legs were useless. It took what seemed like an eternity but in reality was only five seconds for the small brave dog to reach Francis, resting his little head on the back of his master’s right hand with the black remote still in his tiny jaws.

Francis turned his head to where he was lying on his left cheek and watched as the fire of life drained out of his little dog’s brown eyes. He painfully moved his right hand from under Schultz’s head and stroked his small head several times.

“Good boy,” he said softly.

Then he removed the black remote from the small dog’s mouth.

“Francis is still alive! He is moving his hand!” yelled Lynn.

Francis raised his head slightly. He could see the Homeland Security forces advancing on his position but they were still two hundred yards away.

“Assholes! I will teach you there is a heavy price to pay when you shoot one of my dogs!”

The Reaper pressed the blue button and then pressed the detonator. Then he laid his head down and moved no more.

The resulting massive blast could be heard as far away as Reno, a hundred miles away. Lynn, Jane, Emily and Doc, along with the scouts by the sheer wall, immediately hit the ground behind some large boulders. Ringo watched from two miles away as a wall of flames rolled down the valley and high into the air. A monstrous mushroom cloud climbed rapidly into the blue sky. For two hundred yards on this side of the FEMA Camp 43 wall trees were laying flat on the ground and most were on fire. There was a lot of smoke and dust in the air and Ringo knew that was his cue for his twenty scouts to move in for the kill. Riding recklessly down the horse trail Ringo and his twenty scouts hit the dry creek bed on the run. Through the heavy cloud of dust Ringo could see that now, there was no wall containing FEMA Camp 43. He could see the buildings in the FEMA camp resting in the box canyon beyond where the wall once stood. The creek bed far ahead was littered with the bodies of dead FEMA camp guards, most of which were not moving. Francis had guessed correctly on how much explosives to use.

As he moved his scouts up the creek bed he heard a lot of gunfire from above. Looking up he saw a large group of Free America scouts on the main highway heading into the FEMA camp. Scott had showed up with his men just in time.

Galloping down the creek bed Ringo saw two of his scouts kneeling on the ground beside a downed man and his horse. He instantly recognized it was Francis. He dismounted quickly and rushed over to his scouts.

“Is he dead?” he asked.

“The little dog and the horse are dead but he is still alive and kicking. We need to get the old man down here and one of Scott’s medics real quick. He is bleeding from a wound in the upper torso.”

Ringo got on his notebook computer and one minute later two of Scott’s field medics were working on Francis. Doc was on his way.

Ten minutes later three female scouts emerged from the woods lining the creek bed and they were in a hurry. All three rushed to where Francis was lying on the ground. Several scouts got in their way.

“He can’t be moved ladies and he is not awake. We are waiting on a helicopter from the FEMA Camp and Doc. We will be taking him to the FEMA camp hospital for now and then the main base later. There are other things you can do. Did you three know this man?” asked the lead medic.

All three women were crying and nodded their heads yes.

“I will talk with Doc when he gets here and he will be the one to work with you.”

Lynn watched as a couple of scouts were moving towards Schultz with a body bag. The Night Ranger pulled her Colt 1911 from her holster and fired into the air. Everyone froze, including Ringo.

“Get away from that dog! He is my dog!” she exclaimed leveling her pistol at the scout who was blocking her way.

“And so is the horse!” yelled Jane who also had her pistol drawn.

Lynn and Emily walked over to the two male scouts and snatched the body bag out of their hands. Then both women proceeded to take care of the small dog. They were having difficulty zippering up the bag for all their tears until Ringo stepped in to help them.

“What are we gonna’ do with Midnight?” asked Ringo softly.

Lynn, Jane and Emily were emotional wrecks. Suddenly, they heard a comforting familiar voice.

“We are gonna’ bury Midnight and Schultz in the Valley of Freedom. That is what we do with all our heroes, Ringo.”

The voice belonged to Doc. The old man quickly went to work on Francis.

Gunshots could be heard coming from the interior of FEMA Camp 43.

“It sounds like we have some resistance,” said Ringo.

Lynn walked over two where the medics were working on Francis. She knelt down and kissed Francis on his forehead. Then she whispered.

“I will need this lover.”

She removed the stainless steel dog whistle that was hanging around his neck. Standing up she blew hard, one time on the whistle.

Lynn walked over to Ringo’s horse and jumped in the saddle.

“Hey, that is my horse!”

“I know. When you get through jabbering would you go get mine? Until then, I’m a scout and the job is not done yet.”

The Night Ranger sat on Ringo’s horse for two minutes when a slight smile broke out on her face. Two German Shepherds were streaking up the creek bed to her location. Upon arriving both animals stopped in a cloud of dust and began to whine and sniff Francis’ face. The young scout, with his eyes closed, raised his right hand and petted both dogs on their head.

“Good boys,” he said softly.

“Major, Sarge,  folgen sie mir!” Lynn commanded.

She pulled one her Colt’s from her gun belt, turned Ringo’s horse and headed for the breached wall of FEMA Camp 43 with her Colt in her right hand. The two big German Shepherds followed their master.

“What did she say?” asked Ringo watching her and the pack barrel down the creek bed.

Jane walked over to one of the scout’s and just by the fate of God, he was the young man who she had asked to come visit the Black Widow’s tent the night before.

“That was German for follow me and let’s kill a bunch of mother fuckers, Ringo,” said Emily.

Jane pushed the young scout away from his horse.

“You didn’t come by last night. At any rate, have your buddy there leave his horse for the Black Widow and I need you two to scramble up that foot path and head right for two miles. There you will find three horses, three mules…”

“I will go get the animals, Janie. You two go with the Night Ranger and be careful,” said Ringo.

Ringo watched as the two experienced scouts took off up the dust filled creek bed in the direction of the devastated wall. In the distance he could barely see the Night Ranger along with her two German Shepherds.

Five hours later FEMA Camp 43 had been liberated by Free America along with the inmates of the camp. Francis had been air lifted to the Main Base and Lynn, Jane, Emily along with the animals were making the long trip home to the Secondary Base the next day. That is where the memorial service was set to happen. It was the longest trip in the Night Ranger’s life.

* * * * *

Six months had passed since the battle for FEMA Camp 43. For two days it was a violent struggle. The federal government had made a strong effort to reclaim the camp but the forces from Free America had prevailed. Fifty two government aircraft had been shot down by the Swedish surface to air missiles along with the normal Stinger missile systems by the Free America scouts. Numerous cruise missiles had also been brought down. Homeland Security made no effort to reclaim the camp using ground forces. Once the word was spread that the largest and most fortified FEMA camp in North America had been liberated the resistance movement in the continental United States accelerated. The federal government and its foreign allies now had their hands full.

FEMA Camp 43 and its inmates immediately joined in the struggle for Nevada to be free. The first month after being liberated the former inmates, now citizens of Free America, had an election to rename the camp. To be known as FEMA Camp 43 was an unpopular option.  The overwhelming choice by the newly freed citizens was Fort Shultz, once the tale of the brave little dog became public knowledge. From the two million former inmates, two hundred thousand young men and women had enlisted in the Free America scout program. Nevada was well on its way to becoming the first free state in the continental United States.

Scott and his scouts had invaded the mining camp north of Rochester the day after FEMA Camp 43 had been freed. The leader of the scouts had convinced the owners, through the use of friendly persuasion, to join the Free America cause. Now the money was rolling in. Zak and Scott had also used the proceeds and the gold from Mel, the prospector and his stash at the Twin Caves, to buy weapons from friendly Canadian companies that were sympathetic to the cause and needed the real money. It was also discovered that the twin caves was actually sitting on the largest gold vein in history.  Free America was now starting to be well armed and well funded.

This morning in the Secondary Base the Night Ranger, Calamity Jane and the Black Widow were sitting on their horses in the tunnel, waiting to hit the trail once again. There was still work to be done and Hussein Guardsmen on the trail to kill. Zak, Doc and Ringo were standing beside Lynn waiting to see them off.

“Why don’t you hang around here for another month Lynn? Why don’t you take some easy rides and knock the rust off? By that time the FEMA Camp 37 operation will be ready to roll,” said Zak.

“I know old man, but there is nothing like actually getting on the trail in the Nevada wilderness to get that fine edge. We will be at FEMA Camp 37 when it is time and hopefully this will be last time.”

“I doubt if you run across any Hussein patrols to kill young lady. Since FEMA Camp 43 was taken, there hasn’t been many government forays into Northern Nevada although it still happens every now and then,” added Zak.

“Well, that’s a good thing because we were thinking about heading to Fort Schultz to check it out and then going down through California. There is still some action down there, according to Scott,” interjected Jane.

“Not much. About the only place that needs to be consolidated is Southern Nevada. Little Jimbo and the Pale Rider have done the heavy lifting in Arizona, New Mexico and west Texas. Las Vegas is gonna’ be one hell of a battle this next time ladies.”

“We know Zak. What is going on? Is he running late?” asked Lynn.

“You should know him better than anyone,” grinned the old man.

The three female scouts and the three leaders of the Free America movement turned to look at the opening to the stable area in the tunnel of the Secondary Base. As if on cue, a young, handsome man dressed in black wearing a black wide brimmed hat exited the opening riding a young black stallion. He turned the horse to his left and headed for the group waiting by the campfire that had existed for five years. He ambled up on the black horse. He was in no hurry. As he got closer he pulled a thin cigar out his right breast pocket and lit it. He pulled up his black stallion next to the Night Ranger’s horse and then leaned off his saddle to give her a passionate, long kiss on the lips.

“How are you feeling baby?” asked Lynn while looking into his steel blue eyes.

“A little sore in my right shoulder but it sure feels good to be sitting in a saddle after six months of physical therapy. How are you doing Janie, Em?” he asked flashing his riverboat gambler’s smile.

“We’re doing fine. We have been waiting six months on your butt for you to ride!” said Jane.

Francis continued to grin. No one had ever seen the young man grin for such a long time.

“Some things never change,” he said with a sigh.

“You can say that! How do you feel youngster?” asked Doc.

“I feel good Doc. I am ready to get on the trail with my crew.”

“How is that new horse? Is he as smart as Johnny said?” asked Ringo.

“He’s good, real good. Johnny said he is the best stallion he has ever worked with. He just turned three.”

“What’s his name?” asked Zak.

“Two. Johnny actually filled in the papers with Midnight Two but we just call him Two. The black horse knows his name. He is named after his father.”

Lynn, Jane and Emily giggled.

“What?” asked Francis.

“Oh nothing! It is just like you said, some things never change!” laughed Emily.

“Did you tell Francis about your little surprise, Lynn?” asked Zak.

The Night Ranger gave the old man a dark look and moved her hand to rest on the Colt 1911 on her right hip. She had finally ditched her Baretta pistol. Her action made the old man nervous.

“No, I didn’t you big mouth!” she exclaimed.

“What surprise?” asked Francis.

Lynn hesitated for a moment and then finally spoke.

“Okay, I was going to surprise you on down the trail but since the old man ruined it running his big mouth I reckon I will tell you now.”

Lynn reached into her right saddle bag and pulled out a small brown and white dog.

“This is Tiger! He is Schultz’s son from Mitzi!” she said with elation.

The small Jack Russell terrier stood on Lynn’s saddle and eyeballed Francis intently. Francis petted his saddle and the small dog jumped from Lynn’s saddle to land on his. The terrier was wagging his tail and licking Francis’ hands. Francis had a grin on his face a mile wide.

“Well I’ll be damned! Schultz was a daddy! I didn’t know that! He is a dead ringer for Schultz!”

“He sure is! Mitzi had two little boys! I got the pick of the litter! Me, Janie and Em have been working with him since he was two weeks old, along with Major and Sarge. The German Shepherds treat him like he is the alpha male and I think they know he is Schultz’s little boy but I am not sure about that! It is so funny and so cute! I have been training him with the whistle along with German and English. Janie and Em have been training too.  He is smart, just like his daddy!” exclaimed Lynn.

The little dog settled into Francis’ right saddle bag just like Schultz used to do. He was ready to ride.

“I’ll say he is just like his daddy! That little shit has peed on me twice so far so he has been running loose in the Secondary Base! You have to keep an eye on him when he is on the ground!” added Zak.

That statement caused everyone to laugh.

“I sure am happy about this. I was wondering about what ever happened to Mitzi when I was laid up in the clinic,” said Francis.

“Boy, are you out of touch with what has been happening. Johnny has started a dog breeding business on the side. He has built state of the art kennels and everything else just outside the stable entrance to the Valley of Freedom in addition to doing his horse training requirements. He is breeding Jack Russell terriers, German Shepherds and nothing else. His dog business is booming. I know twelve scouts who now travel with dogs along with mules or pack horses and he has a list on his office wall of scouts who want dogs that is a foot long. He gives the dogs away once they are trained but I know the scouts who have received dogs have been giving Johnny silver, gold and guns for his efforts. So has Zak,” said Jane.

“Really? I guess his horse blanket market is doing well, well enough to buy the materials and dog food,” replied Francis.

“That ain’t the whole story baby! Tell him Zak, how you were a dick head when Johnny came to you with the idea. That young stable boy is what Free America is fighting for!” said Lynn.

Zak was kicking the ground trying to ignore Lynn.

“Well?” asked Francis looking at Zak. Doc and Ringo had big grins on their faces.

“It was nothing…really. The Night Ranger is making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Tell him the story Zak! We ain’t got all day waiting on you to admit you were wrong old man!” yelled Jane.

Zak was hesitant to answer but finally he spoke.

“That little capitalist pig came to me and asked me if he could raise some dogs for the scouts because of the Reaper’s dogs and how they performed. I told him we didn’t have the money to fund something like that. He was gone for less than fifteen minutes and returned to hand me a canvas bag with a hundred gold coins. He asked me if that was enough to buy materials and supplies. I still don’t know where he got that kind of hard money. I could hardly say no then, could I?”

Francis, Lynn, Emily and Jane laughed.

“Warden Nelson?” asked Francis looking at his three female scouts.

The three women nodded their heads yes.

“Warden Nelson? What does he have to do with this?” asked Zak.

“Nothing Zak! You didn’t keep his gold did you?” asked Francis with a frown on his face.

“No! Of course not! I gave the gold coins back to that little capitalist pig and ordered what he needed from the Texas Nation and Canada the same day! He is gonna’ be richer than anyone in this state once this war is over. Plus, scouts having dogs in the field has proved to be a smart move. I think he has around twenty terrier pups and a hundred Shepherd pups right now. There must be fifty pregnant bitches of both breeds running around in his kennel. Lynn gave him a tattered book on how to train dogs and he spends a couple of days with the scout who receives a mutt, training him. He has farmers and locals donating dogs all the time. He is a real pain in the ass demanding papers on the mutts. He is insistent on that, why I don’t know. That little dog Mitzi just had another two dog litter last week. That dog is Johnny’s dog and she goes with him everywhere, even sits by him in the cafeteria.”

“That is great news, that Schultz’s line continues,” said Francis.

“I thought it would be a great surprise lover. Tell him the name of Johnny’s operation Zak. He has it on top of the building illuminated with big, bright neon lights,” said Lynn.

Zak glared at the Night Ranger and said nothing.

“Go ahead and tell Francis what the name of the kennel is Zak or we will camp right here until you do!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

Zak spun around, threw his hat on the ground and stomped on it several times, throwing one of his traditional shit fits.

“Dammit, Janie, he will see one of these days!”

“I guess we might as well set up camp, Lynn,” said Jane while dismounting her horse.

“Okay, okay. The little twit named it the Reaper’s Crib. Does that make everyone happy?”

The members of the Reaper Crew laughed. Even Francis laughed.

“That sounds like a damn good name to me. I reckon we are ready to roll. Thanks for everything Doc. Thanks…dad,” said Francis leaning off his horse to shake the leaders of Free Americas’ hands.

“You be careful Francis. Just try to be in the area of Las Vegas in thirty days. The feds are gonna’ have another dedication ceremony for FEMA Camp 37. I am planning on blowing it up again, along with Nellis Air Force base this time,” ordered Zak.

“We will be there. I think after the Fort Schultz visit we might head up to Elko instead of California. I still have to pay my Uncle Ricky a visit one of these days.”

The young man flicked his reins and the group headed out of the tunnel. The three female scouts and waved goodbye to Doc, Ringo and Zak.

“You didn’t tell him did you?” asked Doc.

“What? About the new pack of dogs?”

As the Reaper’s group headed out of the tunnel Major and Sarge paused to look back behind the mules and the three one wheel carts. Behind the two German Shepherds a small brown and white terrier along with a larger brown ball of fur and a black ball of fur stumbled along the path trying to stay up with the two big canines. The three small pups were stopping at every small boulder lifting their legs for a brief moment and then hustling to stay up with the departing group. The two big German Shepherds patiently waited for the puppies to catch up while wagging their tails.

“That is the best damn squad we have,” said Ringo.

“I wonder what Francis is gonna’ think when he finds out he now leads two packs of mutts,” said Doc.

“Those three new pups on the ground belong to Janie and Em, They have the heritage. The small black one is Sarge’s son and the brown is Major’s,” said Ringo.

“Francis will find out soon enough that there is another pack,” said Zak.

“Oh, he is gonna’ be real surprised, believe me,” said Doc with a laugh.

“What? Why? You know Francis likes dogs!” exclaimed Zak.

“I wasn’t talking about that son! I was speaking about the real news!” exclaimed Doc.

“What? That Lynn is three months pregnant with twin boys?” asked Zak.

Epilogue

So this is the chapter of my life that will be added to the Always Remember Program to be taught in our schools. Reflecting back on what happened forty years ago makes me feel happy and sad. It was the best time of my life and at times the worst.

After the liberation of FEMA Camp 43 me, Janie and Em along with the mules and two German Shepherds made the long trip back to the Secondary Base. It took us eight days and we renamed the Javier Trail the Trail of Tears. We all three cried just about every foot along the way. When we stopped at our box canyon we were surprised to find more than two thousand freed inmates from FEMA Camp 43 traveling down the trail behind us along with five hundred scouts from Scott’s army headed to the Secondary Base to enlist in the training program for scouts. It was quite an honor and a relief looking back on that day.

We returned to the Secondary Base early in the day. That was the day I buried Schultz and Midnight in the Valley of Freedom. Zak had gone to great lengths for the ceremony. When Zak and Doc, along with me, Janie and Emily lowered his little casket made of stainless steel into the cold Nevada ground I expected to be crying my head off along with Em and Janie. I was surprised to see Zak crying like a baby. Later I found out from Doc that Schultz had been his wife’s dog and when Doc lost his wife Zak gave the terrier to Francis, the first week the Reaper arrived at the Secondary Base after losing his father. Doc had said that Francis had needed some purpose in life and that his anger directed at his uncle needed to be set on the back burner of life. Schultz had filled that need. At that time Schultz was six months old, just a pup.  I had finally found out what Francis had meant when he used to tell me that he inherited the small brave dog. It was a painful discovery.

Schultz and Midnight were the first Free America animals buried in the Valley of Freedom cemetery. Zak had granite statues carved of every animal since that fateful day and placed at the head of every Free America animal’s grave since then. Zak has been dogmatic about the statues. Over the years, many more of Free Americas’ animals joined Schultz and Midnight, including Major and Sarge. What was uncanny is that Amanda’s horse, the most wanted terrorist in American history, Spooky, died on the same day Midnight and Schultz were killed years later. That was on the twenty first day of March. After the war ended, the citizens of Fort Schultz quickly established a national holiday on March twenty first, honoring the two animals which were instrumental in getting them their precious freedom. Fort Schultz is now a city of more than six million people and every year on that day more than a million people show up at the Secondary Base to travel through the tunnel, through the stables and into the large Valley of Freedom for the ceremony from all over Free America. Whoever is the leader of Free America, which has been Scott for a long time, always places some big Milk Bone dog biscuits on the headers of each of the dogs’ graves. For the horses, he leaves a bag of oats at the base of their statue.

On the twenty first of March on every year is when me, Janie, Em, Amanda and Zak along with members of the family meet at the ceremony for a good group cry. Francis refuses to attend still to this day. The Valley of Freedom is visited by millions of citizens every year to camp out, ride rental horses or do both on the long wonderful trails winding through the big valley and to pay their respects to the scouts and animals who sacrificed their lives for them to be free. The animal section of the National Cemetery has proved to be the most popular by far. That gives me some comfort as I grow older. I miss the dogs, horses and of course, the mules. I think about them every day of my life.

Me, Janie and Em often sneak away to make the two day trip, on horses of course, to visit and tend the graves. We don’t have to do that. Free America keeps that National Cemetery in tip top shape. Somehow, the Pale Rider and Zak always find out about our impromptu trips and meet us there. We all camp out at the statues for the night and swap tales about those dangerous and wonderful days. The first date at Tom’s bar and the second date to the Grizzly Steak House in Rochester had proved to be Zak’s favorite. He insists on hearing that story every time we get together from each of us. That has eased the painful memories over the years, but not much. We always feel better on the trip back. We carry our guns along with three mules following us to recapture the magic of what we once had. It has been good therapy. And oh yes, we always travel with more than one pack of dogs. Now days there are three Jack Russell terriers and six German Shepherds. They all are well trained and get along surprisingly well but the only threats we run across now days are the ever present rattlers in Nevada. Sometimes Zak and Amanda will grab one of the rental horses and ride back with us…home.

After we won the war Francis and I, along with Janie and Em, made one more ride to the twin caves. Francis loaded two of Mel’s large canvas bags on the gyro cart and we headed back to the base. One month later Francis negotiated the largest land purchase in Nevada history with some of that gold. The area included the mountainous terrain where the Secondary Base was located all the way to Highway 93 and to the west which included Eureka and Lander County. That purchase also included the silver and gold mine north of Rochester. It has proved over time to be the smartest move in history. Now there are many mines that are in operation and my sons and grandsons run those operations to this day.

After the war ended the love of my life gave any scout who needed land, parcels to raise families and to farm. He has also provided whatever was needed, money wise, to get any scout and his family up and running. The land of Central Nevada, running from north of Las Vegas to just south of Battle Mountain, is still a stronghold for the descendents of the Free America to this day. Nevada will always be free from any government oppression. Francis has proved to be a smart businessman as well as a smart scout.

Doc published his study for the world to read, after the war, about what a soul weighed. It set religious organizations back on their heels and made Doc and his descendents extremely wealthy. Many leading doctors have emerged from that branch of the Free America family tree along with a thriving teaching hospital in Fort Schultz that is named after Doc. The complex is simply named Doc’s Hospital. That is what he wanted before he passed away. There is still a big controversy to this day about he and Francis’ experiment but that is another story.

We wound up settling to the south of where Zak, Amanda, Jane and Emily live. In fact within a half hour ride I can visit any of my friends from the Civil War, the ones that survived. We see each other every week.

I found out during and after the war that I double ovulate. After my first set of twin boys were born right after the end of the Second Civil War and the final battle at FEMA Camp 37 I had three more sets of twins in the next six years. Thankfully, with the last set, God provided me with little girls. Having six boys running around on the ranch growing up and playing the Reaper gave me gray hairs. At least there are not many rattlesnakes on our four thousand acre ranch. I had to put my foot down when the twin girls started to ride with them dressed up like the Night Ranger and carrying air pistols.

Now in the twilight of my years the grandchildren ask some…trying questions. One of my grandkids, the one named Francis, came to one of our family events with two wanted posters. The one for the Reaper had no clear photo but a good description of the German Shepherds. We still have a lot of German Shepherds on the ranch. The other picture was one of the Night Ranger and it was very clear. My grandson asked me if that was how we got the money to buy the ranch. I just told him yes.

I miss those wonderful nights and days.

Lynn Beasley aka The Night Ranger

Free America Senator

July 4th, 2062 

Sin City

Prison

By

R.E. Riepe

&

M. Riepe

All Rights Reserved June 17th, 2012

Happy Father’s Day Edward Francis Riepe

Sin City Prison

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One – What happens in Sin City, Stays in Sin City

Chapter Two – Preacher Joe

Chapter Three – The White Widow

Chapter Four – Family Reunion

Chapter Five – Getting Acquainted

Chapter Six – Lesson One

Chapter Seven – The McFoster Brothers

Chapter Eight – Escape from Las Vegas

Chapter Nine – A Sad Story

Chapter Ten – Scott and the Pneumatic Bow

Chapter Eleven – Jimbo’s Rock

Chapter Twelve – Get Together

Chapter Thirteen – Vegas Vacation Excitement

Chapter Fourteen – Vegas Ain’t What It Used to Be

Chapter Fifteen – The Crazies of Sin City

Chapter Sixteen – The Gangs of Sin City

Chapter Seventeen – Party on the Roof

Chapter Eighteen – Lydia’s Appointment

Chapter Nineteen – Commander Wiley, Commander Trevor

Chapter Twenty – Francis the Party Pooper

Chapter Twenty One – Old Men Play Rough

Chapter Twenty Two – Sermon from Above

Chapter Twenty Three – A Long Night

Chapter Twenty Four – Dangerous Plans

Chapter Twenty Five – Stampede

Chapter Twenty Six – Raid

Chapter Twenty Seven – Death of a Scout

Epilogue

Prologue

I have been asked by the Free America government to write my memoirs about the events of the Second Civil War for the Always Remember Program that is to be implemented in our schools in the coming year. Historians at several of our advanced schools have requested that I focus on the vague and generally unknown events that happened long ago concerning FEMA camp 37 and the day Sin City Prison became an institution of the past. Historians in present times, forty years later, generally concede that the Second Civil War started the day that FEMA camp 37 was blown up and burned to the ground by Free Americans in Nevada along with seven other FEMA camps in the country that was formally known as the United States of America. They also agree that when Sin City Prison was liberated and Nevada became a nation was the beginning of the end of the Second Civil War.  What is left is now strictly governed by our Constitution and Bill of Rights. Nevada no longer exists and Free America, formerly Nevada, is still a sovereign nation standing alone.  It was a long and costly struggle.

Most people don’t know about the legacy of FEMA camp 37 nor the story of Sin City Prison, except for the brave rural citizens in Nevada, which at that time and presently are today, few and far between. There are however, concentrated areas of dense populations of which two were founded by Free America scouts forty years ago. One is Fort Schultz in the north territory of Free America and the other Fort Zak, which long ago was known as Las Vegas. This is the story of the beginning of Fort Zak.

FEMA camp 37 was actually burned to the ground two times over six years and Nevada became the first state to be free of a government that had become tyrannical and ruthless. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people died in the FEMA camps. No one knows to this day. Unlike many states we had only one large city and a vast wilderness composed of desert and God’s rugged mountains to take refuge in.  He knew what He was doing when He created those wonderful mountains. We also had just one major government military base to take out along with some minor ones in our state. Some Free Americans with a vision of the future knew what to do and how to get it done.

The first time FEMA camp 37 was blown up and burned only nineteen inmates fled to the Free America movement out of two hundred thousand. No one knows to this day how many people perished from the FEMA guard’s guns or the resulting fire caused by our actions. The second time FEMA camp 37 was destroyed after being rebuilt two thousand and twenty two fled to the mountains with the Free Americans. The third and final time FEMA camp 37 was attacked it was not burned to the ground but Sin City Prison, one mile away, was, except for one tall tower. More than one hundred thousand special inmates joined the Free Americans and this time we had the weapons and the people to take back our state. We captured the government air base at Nellis and liberated Sin City Prison the same day. The next day Free America construction crews moved in to build McFoster Air Base, formerly Nellis Air Force Base, three miles away from Fort Zak. I know because I was there. One week earlier I was a convicted murderer serving a life sentence in Sin City Prison.

I, along with a band of scouts and one brave young man started the process of change. Looking back forty years later no one knew what an impact a twenty four hour period could possibly have on the world. I was young when I was unfairly convicted and suddenly I found out how precious freedom was. Our elders had lost their way and gave up their liberties along with their freedom to the federal government and many citizens suffered, including children. This is the story about those children, five in particular. They changed many lives forever.

Now in the twilight of my life I realize that the brave men, women and children I once knew during the struggle must never be forgotten. What saddens me is one of the children became very close to me in a short time. I never knew his last name until years later and in some cases I never did know many patriots’ real names but they all had one thing in common. They died free.

July 4th, 2062 

Nevada Foreign Relations Ambassador

Lydia Holder

Chapter One

What Happens in Sin City, Stays in Sin City

It was now the year twenty twenty three in what was left of the United States of America. The once mighty nation had struggled through some very rough and tumultuous times during the last long decade. When the American dollar along with the rest of the world’s fiat currencies went into the tank during the latter part of the year twenty twelve the entire world had quickly become a rough place to survive, let alone live. Anarchy had started to rear its ugly head in every major nation on Earth and many governments on the planet were finding the task of dealing with mass civil disobedience difficult to handle. A lot of people in a majority of nations had been terminated and a lot more had been imprisoned during the long struggle.

Surprisingly a benefit of the world wide civil disobedience was for the last ten years wars between nations had been moved to the back burner on the stove of life but civil war’s front burner was burning bright red in many countries around the world. Almost every form of government around the globe was finding it difficult to survive the massive rioting occurring everywhere including the United States of America. A majority of nations around the planet found themselves with no government rule at all.

To make matters more complicated the Iranian government exploded their first big nuclear bomb within the first week it was operational high above the nation of Israel in the atmosphere. The Iranians also had an ace up their sleeve. They had developed a second bomb and that device was exploded on the city of Tel Aviv at noon the same day. The Iranians fully knew what impact this action would have on the Middle East and the rest of the world. The result was most countries in the immediate region, including all of Europe along with some parts of Africa and Asia suddenly found they were without electric power which threw this part of the world back into the dark ages.  Ten horrific years later after exploding the bombs most of the countries in the Middle East were still without electric power. In these countries life was like it was hundreds of years ago and the future was grim.

Now days most people in these severely affected countries were more concerned about where the next meal for their family was to be found than worrying about the religious icons and buildings they had fought and died for in the past. These former nations were now reduced to the equivalent of a feudal society relying on tribal associations in order to survive. Unfortunately, the only instruments of society that still worked well in this time of life were guns.

The United States found its own government in a precarious situation during the first six months of the economic collapse. During this six month period many events happened almost simultaneously threatening the collapse of the nation. This was a worrisome time for the people of America knowing that they were being led by a President with a serious lack of experience. These were some trying times for all Americans.

The first executive order the President signed during the first week of the crisis was a document commanding all American bases including war ships around the world along with every conscripted man and woman to return to the United States immediately.

After the first week of the dollar’s collapse because of the numerous violent riots occurring in almost every major city in the United States the panicked President implemented the REX84 act that was signed into law by President Reagan many years ago. During the years leading up to the collapse of the dollar the young President had signed many executive orders, bypassing Congress, to support the REX84 signing. Martial law now ruled the land.

This was like pouring a tanker full of gasoline on a small fire. The fire in America soon became a raging inferno. There were numerous violent and epic gun battles erupting in the major cities in the United States that went on for weeks with no end in sight. Scared citizens started to flee to smaller cities and towns far from the dense metropolitan areas, especially in the Northeast and West coast of America. In some of the rural cities and towns these people were welcomed, in others they were not.

Farmland soon become the most valuable possession mankind had ever desired, worth more than any amount of gold or silver. Many of the small towns that were oriented to farming organized their new arrivals into armed groups of displaced citizens who were instructed to protect the crops and the farms at all costs. The problem was, after these towns and small cities had accepted enough new citizens to the point where they felt their food supply was protected, they started to reject any further arrivals at their borders. There were hundreds of thousands of people fleeing the dangerous cities with their families. The perimeters of these numerous towns and small cities went from becoming known as fields for growing food to being known as killing fields. There was much death.

Several disgruntled states had seceded from the United States during this time frame. Most of these states were located in the South, Southwest and North Midwest far from the tyranny erupting out of Washington D.C.

The desperate President had appeared on every government broadcast channel every day after the signing of the REX84 executive order pleading with these rogue states and their governors to stand together with the federal government to get through the crisis he had created. He was promising in turn that the nationwide elections would occur this coming November in the near future and that there would be a return to implementing the documents that people believed in when the country first began. No one believed him because of his prior actions and statements.  Consequently because of the lack of confidence in his leadership the elections never occurred and the rioting continued.

In twenty twenty three he was still the President of the United States of America and martial law was still in force. The citizens of America soon longed for the freedoms they had once enjoyed in life.

The result was a radically different picture of what the United States once was. There were actually four different nations in what was now known as the old United States of America.

The President soon found out that most of the returning troops refused to go to war on their fellow citizens, unlike what occurred during the American Civil War when Abraham Lincoln was president. A majority of the enlisted men were willing to make an effort to bring law and order along with peace to the rioting cities but to attack a state because it no longer wanted to remain a member of the federal government and to kill their fellow citizens was where a vast majority of military men drew their line in the sand, including their commanding officers. The issues that applied to citizens of the United States were different now days than in the preceding Civil War years as to what the issues were. Freedom is the exact opposite of greed and most citizens were of the opinion the federal government was now controlled by greedy world wide corporations.

There was now the United States of America consisting almost entirely of the northeast United States and their large government dependent cities. There were three states not contiguous to the northeast that had decided to stay with the federal government and these were found on the west coast of North America. These states were California, Oregon and Washington. The three isolated states had experienced some rough times, especially California. No one really knew what California represented at this time in history. The federal government maintained that California was still a member of the federation but in actuality there were now two California states, Southern and Northern California. The state was so severely fragmented in its beliefs that a wall and a fence now ran along the border between the two warring factions just south of Fresno to the border with Nevada. Travel within the state between north and south was strictly discouraged. South California was lobbying for help from the Mexican government and the only thing that was stopping Mexico from intervening was a direct threat to that nation’s government that such help would be viewed as an act of war from the President of the United States. So far the threat from the President had worked for the last few years. Mexico had its own problems, fighting the drug lords who had overtaken the land.

Texas was now a sovereign nation. In the ensuing years since the economic collapse Arizona and New Mexico had been absorbed by the large former state, retaining their identities by now referring to themselves as counties in the new nation. To the chagrin of the federal government the nation of Texas was doing well, thanks to the availability of cheap energy and access to the Gulf of Mexico for its shipping ports. In fact, Texas was now trading precious gasoline, after what had happened in the Middle East overseas, for goods and services from what was left of the United States of America. A tanker full of gasoline to keep the lights on in the northeast power plants would easily fetch a lot of jet aircraft, ammo and whatever was needed to enhance Texas’s ability to defend her people and her land. Texas and the federal government were, indeed, strange bedfellows, but the relationship seemed to be working…for now.

The Northern and Midwestern states in the middle of the former country soon banded together and named their nation Freedom. This coalition of former states boundaries were formed by the Mississippi River to the east, the Texas border in the south, the Rocky Mountains in the west and the Canadian border in the North. They too, because of cheap energy from oil sands as well as oil, along with the fertile land in Kansas, Nebraska and Oklahoma were proving to be a powerhouse when it came to feeding the fractured country. This new nation had located their capital in Missoula, Montana which was just about as far from Washington D.C. as they could get. Of all the newly formed nations they were the ones who had absorbed most of the fleeing citizens in the Northeast. They had a lot of room when it came to land, to grow. The nation known as Freedom was thriving.

The Southern states became the area where newly found freedom from the federal government had been rough sailing the last ten years. There had been major battles fought between each state as well as major battles with the federal government in the two years following the collapse of the dollar. The former land that was known as Dixie during the civil war soon discovered that there was still a lot of racism during those years from all sides, black, brown and white. After two years of people dying in the streets and the region getting nowhere some leaders finally emerged from all the warring factions to bring rationale and morality to the situation. Most of these people were associated with some aspect of the tenants of the Bible. The message that killing people possessing different views of what should be and what color of skin that God had given them had to cease. The message had finally sunk in after a lot of people had been killed. It took this new coalition of states three months of verbal arguments to decide on just the issue of what name should be on their new flag and what the flag should consist of but at least they were arguing with each other instead of resorting to guns to settle their differences. They finally decided on the name Constitution. Since then, they too, because mainly of their ability to produce food and oil from the ocean, were back on track and doing well. The violent battles were now just a bitter memory that they had to bear and bury in order to go into the future.

Every new nation on the North American continent had established their own currency, each of which was based on gold and silver. Each of the new nations had combined the electronic technology that was available with the actual possession of the precious metals by using newly formed banks. The United States dollar, which was still being used by the United States, was not accepted in these new nations in North America. In fact, the United States dollar was not accepted by any nation on Earth, other than in the United States, as a means of conducting commercial trade. This fact alone was crippling the self appointed dictator and his government cronies as well as the corporations who had aligned themselves with the New World Order.

There was some difficult times when it came to establishing values during the last eight years but now, in Texas, ten ounces of silver would buy a family a good sized house and ten or more acres of usable farm land to produce the most valuable commodity in the world, food. In twenty twenty three there was now some order of sanity starting to take hold in the new nations when it came to money and what it represented.

By twenty fifteen what became a major problem for all four nations in North America was not a foreign threat but a threat within each border that no one really foresaw. That threat was out of control crime. All the leaders of the three new nations along with the President of what was left of United States of America were finding out that their prisons were obscenely overcrowded and crime was still a problem, growing larger with each passing day. All four nations were finding that the housing, feeding and medical care of prisoners were taxing resources that needed to be applied to more deserving citizens. A simple solution to this problem would be to execute every prisoner and to set an example for the criminals still at large, of which there were hundreds of thousands, if not millions. This was not an acceptable action for the Christian citizens in the three new nations and the United States but something had to be done. Time was running out for all four nations when it came to dealing with criminals and their care.

The three new nations were turning their eyes to the Silver State which had long been forgotten by everyone. After the collapse of the currency the state of Nevada had been abandoned by every new nation along with all of the residents in the state except for some of the mining areas in the northern part of the desert wasteland where gold and silver were to be found. The nations of Texas and Freedom had come to an agreement to protect and reap the benefits of these remote areas for the silver and gold that was to be found in its soil.  Business was booming along the Interstate Eighty corridor but to the south five hundred miles away, in the Mojave Desert, the city that was once the pride and joy of Nevada as well as the main money maker of the Silver State, was now like a majority of cities that had sprung up and died in the past. Las Vegas was now a ghost town composed of less than five thousand die hard residents who had managed somehow to survive the hard economic times. Las Vegas was now a city with empty resorts, vacant residential towers and abandoned streets, where dust was now six or seven inches deep. By twenty fifteen Las Vegas was now a place where a sane citizen would not want to visit. Most residents were to be found in the eastern part of Clark County in a small part of old downtown Henderson and most of these people had desperately wanted to leave but had been trapped by the lack of fuel and money.

The three new nations of North America came up with a radical plan to deal with the rising crime rate. Analyzing aerial surveys of the Las Vegas valley they concluded that because of the surrounding mountains and limited surface access the valley could be isolated at a minimum cost and more importantly, monitored and maintained in the future. The cost of performing such an action would be far less than the cost of building a new prison to house a measly ten thousand prisoners. To meet the demand of a burgeoning criminal population the three nations would need to build a thousand prisons or more. That act was deemed to be economically unfeasible.

The three new nations finally agreed on a plan to build a fifty foot tall wall between existing mountains around the Las Vegas valley. The plan also allowed for a two lane road to be built on top of each mountain ridge and along the top of the wall with the necessary electrical fences that would be charged to kill with just a single touch from the power generated by Hoover Dam which Texas now controlled. Numerous bases would be built on the free side of the wall and provide housing for the military personnel charged with keeping the prison population confined. Building the wall was not the problem. The major problem was how to care for the prison population which was projected to be two million women and men to start with. The abandoned structures in the Las Vegas area were in good shape at this time and the valley could easily contain that many criminals.

After much emotional debate a logical decision was made. The three nations would deliver a heavily guarded trainload of food once a week to the old downtown area of Las Vegas where the train yards existed and then leave. What the prison population did with this food or how it was distributed was up to them. That was the only care and attention the prison population was going to get. What happened within the perimeter of the wall was of no concern to anyone outside of the wall. Truly, what happened in Las Vegas would stay in Las Vegas. The motto of the former number one tourist destination of the world now had new meaning.

During the construction of the wall the effort was made to remove every form of ground transport in the area except for bicycles. All structures involved in the transmission of electric power were also torn down, like substations, poles, wires and transformers. There would be no electric power provided. All machine shops along with any mechanical shops and their machines would be removed so no guns or weapons could be made. All available building supplies were removed from long abandoned stores like Lowes and Home Depot. The goal was to have a city with structural support against the elements but not much else.

There would be no medical care for anyone within the massive walls and above all there would be no supervision within the prison. The city of Las Vegas was going to serve as an example for criminals yet to be caught that this would not be a place to be sentenced. The first two million criminals to be incarcerated would be the worst of the worst and they would be free to roam within the boundaries of the fifty foot high wall. Every inmate would be able to do whatever they wanted within the confines of the heavily guarded prison. There would be no guards to restrain their actions or no hearing to determine what their punishment would be. The leaders of the three new nations decided that if men and women wanted to act like animals than they would be treated as such. The leaders of the three new nations were designing a hell on Earth.

With a massive effort the task was completed by the first month of twenty fifteen and the three nations started to empty their prisons of their most notorious criminals sending them in converted box cars and cattle cars by rail to the new prison. This transition of criminals was televised for everyone to see.

There were three heavily guarded access points to gain entry in and out of the Sin City prison once it was completed. One access point was built on the north part of Interstate Fifteen heading to Salt Lake City. This access point, at this time, was not a busy entry point. Another access point was constructed on the Boulder Highway corridor that led to the Texas nation. This port was hardly ever used. The last was on the railroad track that was ten miles to the south of the Boulder Highway entry point which was at one time the main access point for the industrial complexes for the once magnificent city located next to the once busy McCarran International Airport. This was the track that led to the old downtown area close to the Freemont Street Experience and was designated to use for the purpose of dropping off the box cars filled with food. Once a week a heavily guarded engine would come from the north to remove the empty box cars that had previously been left and one from the south would arrive to drop off more food.

After two weeks in operation the new nations found that the railroad tracks had been removed in the downtown area where the food drop was originally planned to occur because of its central location. Why this happened no one knew but the result had a powerful effect on the new nations. When the railroad tracks were destroyed the food drop in the downtown area was abandoned and the food drop started to occur within the first two hundred yards where the wall existed in the south part of the valley where many heavy caliber machine guns were mounted on the top of the wall. This happened in a one week time frame. It was now the prisoner’s problem when it came to getting their weekly food ration. A message was sent to the population confined behind the wall that they were not to be coddled like in years before. Hunger is a powerful modifier of human behavior and the new nations were ramming that point home.

The result of removing the railroad tracks was that now it was a long treacherous trip for anyone living in the central and north part of Las Vegas to get their share of the food. Another result was the third access point was now a busy and violent place once a week. Television cameras were established at the top of the wall to transmit the savagery that humanity had to offer to the citizens of the three new nations along with the oppressed citizens of the United States of America. The telecast was now the highest rated television transmission in broadcast history. This was reality television at its finest and at its worst that happened once a week. There were no predetermined scripts for viewers. In the United States the government mainstream media used the weekly telecast as a propaganda tool to keep the masses in line suggesting that this was what awaited them if they planned to leave the boundaries of what was left of the Union. In the three new nations, the telecast was transmitted unedited, with no talking heads with a slanted political agenda. The level of violence displayed by the criminals incarcerated in Sin City prison approached unimagined heights during this first year. Some citizens soon learned to avoid the weekly telecast, while others arranged their schedules to watch. No one felt comfortable about what they had witnessed on live television. 

After the food drop was changed was when the images of the savagery of humanity began to be broadcast to the populations of the three new nations as well as the remaining territories of the United States of America and many citizens wondered if this was a wise move by the three new nations. The many hi tech cameras on the top of the wall at this entry point captured everything that happened. It was not a pretty picture and many citizens, both in the old Union as well as the three new nations, felt embarrassment and concern that America was not portrayed as the land of the free and the home of the brave. Supporters responded by saying America was still the land of the free and the home of the brave by displaying the fact the new nations were dealing with the problem of erasing the citizens who had no desire to be free and to be brave. After all, a child rapist is nothing but a coward and Sin City prison was an integral part of restoring the misguided concept that brave fathers, even if they might be a conventional murderer, were justified in extracting their own interpretation of justice. A known, publicized child rapist never lived more than one minute after disembarking the prisoner transport.

At two weeks in operation there were now more than three hundred thousand prisoners who had been released on the streets of the Sin City prison. The releases always occurred at twelve noon and thousands of transferred prisoners were being released every day at the three entry points during the initial month of operation. The cameras at these entry points recorded the violence and the images were disturbing to the world. America did indeed, contain some violent animals. There was nothing quite like watching a video of men stabbing and beating each other to death so they could be the first to rape a newly arrived female inmate on the street in broad daylight in view of anyone who mustered the intestinal fortitude to watch such an act.

Once these images were viewed by the populations of the new nations the crime rate started to drop dramatically. The citizens and the mainstream government media of the northeastern section of the United States of America immediately objected to what was going on in Sin City until it was revealed that on this particular video the prisoner that was the ultimate survivor of the violent confrontation that committed the rape was a transfer from a New York City penitentiary. It was then disclosed that the President of the United States had struck a deal with the new nations for help when it came to dealing with the growing prisoner populations in which the new nations, who were considered to be the enemy, agreed to help, for a price.

This was a sign that the inexperienced President was finally starting to learn how to lead for the people and not for special interests after several years of holding the office. The President went on the broadcast channels the next day after the protest alarms had been sounded and offered to release the violent offenders located in this particular penitentiary to walk and live in New York City if the people were not happy with his decision. The government could no longer afford to take care of and house incarcerated people any more. The liberal talking heads employed by the government controlled media quickly turned to other issues. To further criticize the President on a national broadcast meant a sudden firing and a one way trip to one of the FEMA camps spread throughout the continent.

By the start of summer in twenty twenty three the Sin City prison now contained an estimated two million female and male inmates. Far more inmates than two million had been relocated to the notorious prison but no one had any idea how many had survived. The three new nations had declared their tallies, stating that three million, five hundred, thirty three thousand and six hundred, seventeen inmates had been transferred to Sin City prison over the past years. They had gone so far as to provide names. The federal government never disclosed how many inmates had been emptied from their prisons but critics had estimated it was over one million. One glaring fact was that tons of seized gold and silver from the oppressed citizens of the United States of America had been deposited into the new banks of the three new nations in exchange for the prisoner transfer.

According to official records kept by the three nations three million and five hundred thousand men and women had traversed through the three entry gates since the facility went into operation in December of twenty sixteen not including the census for the federal government. Every nation had conceded there were unofficial records of transfers. No citizen knew what this meant but there were murmurs that the three new nations were doing the same thing the federal government was doing. There had been a lot of violence witnessed by the guards and cameras at the three gates the past seven years. It was hard to tell how many inmates had been killed by other inmates in unseen areas but most prison officials estimated that the tally was high.

At the railroad entrance the stench of death was overwhelming from the thousands of dead bodies lying in the general area. The smell was so strong that the guards stationed on the wall had been wearing respirators for the past seven years. Skeletons and rotting bodies could easily be seen lying everywhere. The inmates who showed up on a weekly basis to unload the food in the boxcars never tarried to bury the dead. During the unloading of the train boxcars the Sin City inmates would just drag the rotting corpses out of their way, piling up the dead on any nearby pile of rotting corpses. The population of flies was the only thing that was thriving within the walls of the prison.

The violent clashes over food grew less as the years went by. Now there were large criminal gangs that had worked out a method of unloading the boxcars laden with food supplies in a peaceful, but untrusting manner, without getting into fights to the death with other gangs. At various times in the past two years this uneasy truce was violated several times. The last major altercation between two gangs had occurred six months ago in which an estimated two thousand inmates had been killed in the melee by each other’s hand. There was no way of getting a hard count on the kill total because no one on the outside cared. The kill total was arrived at by reviewing just what the cameras on top of the wall recorded. In every instance the guards manning the machine gun torrents on top of the wall never interfered in any altercation between the inmates. As long as there was no attempt to breach the wall, no shot was fired. That was the idea behind the operation of the Sin City prison. To be sent to this prison would be similar to receiving a death sentence at the hand of a fellow inmate and not a prison employee.

At this time there were now four major gangs running loose in Sin City prison. There were the Black Mambas, composed entirely of African American inmates, the Crackers, composed of white inmates, the Latino Kings, composed of Hispanic inmates and the Dykes, composed of female inmates who had managed to survive the rough conditions in Sin City prison.

Of all the gangs, the Dykes were not surprisingly the most deadly. They had used their brains to survive the deadly environment in Sin City prison.  Prison officials estimated there were now one hundred thousand female members associated with the Dykes, all female. This gang was highly organized, tight and resourceful. They were the first gang in the Sin City prison to display manufactured weapons of which the most deadly was proving to be a device called the pneumatic bow. The weapon resembled a bulky round shotgun constructed primarily out of PVC pipe. The body of this deadly weapon was four feet long and five inches in radius. Using the power of compressed air, the weapon could fire six to eight aluminum arrows singularly or all at once that would easily travel the length of several football fields with devastating accuracy. The most fearful aspect of this weapon was that it was basically silent, only emitting a small hissing sound when fired.

The male gangs had also developed weapons over the years like crude compound bows along with a few projectile weapons utilizing combustible gas but none rivaled the pneumatic bow.

The male gangs referred to the pneumatic bow as silent death.

Where or how the women were manufacturing so many of the weapons was a mystery and had remained so since it first appeared five years ago. Now almost every female inmate incarcerated in the Sin City prison had this weapon slung on her back and none would hesitate to use it.

When the Dykes showed up with bicycle powered carts to get their share of the food allotment each week they showed up in force with an army of women toting this weapon. They had displayed a penchant for killing any opposing gang member who interfered in their operation and had also shown no fear when it came to dying for their gang. The three male gangs over the years soon developed a fear and a lot of respect for the Dykes. They were a gang not to be messed with.

The largest male gang in the prison was the Black Mambas. This gang was highly unorganized and there had been a lot of infighting within their organization in the past. On several occasions there had been serious battles between different factions where thousands of Black Mamba members had been killed in one day. For the last two years the gang had been stable and had recruited more members. This was an easy task since most of the population of the Sin City prison was composed of African American males.

The Latino Kings were a tight knit group of Latinos with a membership of thirty to fifty thousand members. Within the prison there was an estimated twenty more Hispanic gangs but the Kings were the largest and most violent in the Hispanic community. They spent most of their time fending off the rival Hispanic gangs encroaching on their turf.

Of all the gangs in the prison the Crackers were the most violent and most insane. The gang was composed of an estimated ten thousand men, all white. There were singular white men wandering around the streets of Sin City prison who were seen on rare occasions. If a single white man ran across members of the Crackers he was given the option of either joining their ranks or being executed on the spot. There weren’t many white men flying solo in Sin City now days. If any person was unfortunate to run across some members of the Crackers, especially a rival gang member who was found on the street by himself, he was never heard from again. Because of this reputation the Crackers, who were hated by the rival gangs, rarely ventured out of their stronghold which was the main terminal of the deserted McCarren Airport. The airport was avoided by all inmates day and night.

There was a fifth group that was growing larger with each passing month. They had taken up residence in the Luxor hotel just across from McCarren Airport where the Crackers called home. They had labeled their group the Reformers but the four major gangs along with the minor gangs operating in the prison referred to them as the Preachers. These were the murderers, rapists and the worst of humanity that had found and pledged what remained of their lives to God and spreading the teachings of Jesus. The Reformers were composed mostly of whites, a small percentage of African Americans and a very small population of Hispanic men. There was a small amount of Asian men in the group also. The only requirement of the Reformers was that the person who joined their ranks had accepted Jesus Christ as their savior.

During the first year of operation the Reformers numbered roughly one thousand members. Now in the seventh year of the prison’s existence the Reformers numbered in the tens of thousands. The Luxor and its towers were not only their domain but the Reformers now called the abandoned Excalibur Casino and Hotel home as well. Preparations were underway for additional members of the Reformers to take up residence across the street at the former Tropicana Resort. Their sole purpose was to show and teach people what Jesus once taught and to save as many souls as possible in Sin City. This was a daunting task. The members of this group of people were easily identifiable. They wore the sign of a Christian, the cross, on a necklace and most wore the collar. After seven years most gangs left the Reformers alone to practice their faith, reasoning to kill a preacher was not a good thing to do, except for the Crackers. Many converted men of faith had been killed at the hands of the Crackers over the past seven years.

Because of the violent attitude of the Crackers the Reformers had learned over the years to walk with the Dykes on the weekly food pick ups finding there was safety in numbers, especially if those numbers carried a pneumatic weapon. The members of the Dykes had grown accustomed to their company and there were a few gang members in the Dykes who were taking the teachings of Jesus they had learned from the Reformers back to the Fontainebleau, the hotel tower the Dykes called home, to spread the word.

Today was the fourth of July in twenty twenty three. Looking back on what had happened to many nations around the world the decision involving the REX84 executive order made years ago by the inexperienced President had proved to be the right one at the time. The nation, although there were now four independent nations where the continental United States once existed, had survived and was now starting to recover. Most importantly, law and order had been restored at least in the three new nations, to some degree.

Today was the day a large prison train arrived at the Sin City prison containing ten thousand new inmates. In the beginning these trains arrived just about every day. In twenty twenty three the prisoner transports were arriving once a month. The Sin City prison had proved its value to society and more importantly, its cost effectiveness. The prison had had an impact on society.

Luckily for these new arrivals the train pulling boxcar after boxcar laden with food arrived at the same time.

The massive train yard where the food was dropped off was heavily populated by small armies from the four main gangs to get their weekly allotment of food. The smaller independent gangs and the lone scavengers would have to grab whatever boxes of food the four main gangs left behind. The train yard contained the stench of death but it was not as strong as in years past. The rotting bodies, at least most of them, had finally turned to dust leaving sun bleached skeletons lying on the ground in big piles.

Shackled to an iron ring in one of the female inmate boxcars was a young woman twenty years of age named Lydia Holder. She was peering out the narrow opening provided by the thick wooden slats which composed the prison boxcar transport and what she saw started to make her shake uncontrollably. She was not alone. Most of her fellow female inmates were shaking and crying uncontrollably. Everyone had seen the telecasts of brutality and violence common in Sin City with the arrival of the prisoner transports. Everyone had heard or read about the tales of horror. To see it live made anyone shake to their soul. Knowing you would be joining them soon was worse.

It took an hour before the prison guards finally arrived in her boxcar which had now become unbearably hot from the July sun in the Mojave Desert. Once free she jumped to the desert floor from the boxcar door not knowing what to do or where to go. There was much activity in the train yard and a lot of noise. The four major gangs were busy loading up crudely made wheel carts with food and keeping a wary eye on each other. There were a lot of verbal exchanges ongoing between the gangs and the new arrivals.

Once the boxcar with the female inmates unloaded the obscene cat calls began from the male gang members. The men paused to yell obscenities and threats at the new female inmates but continued to unload the boxcars they had claimed as theirs. Now was not the time to socialize with the opposite sex. There would be plenty of time for that later on if the opportunity arose to run across a newly arrived female inmate lost on the unfamiliar streets of Sin City. There would be many confrontations when night fell between members of the three male gangs on the prowl hunting female game. The male gang members knew all of the good hiding spots near the railroad train yard and that the odds were on their side for a successful hunt this day. Tonight, perverted needs for sex and violence would be fulfilled for many.

Lydia didn’t know what to do along with many of the newly arrived female inmates. She had received no instruction on how to cope with the animals in Sin City from anyone.

She saw four women who seemed to be in hurry. The women were walking fast in her direction with the look of fear in their eyes.

“Hey what’s the rush? Is something wrong?” she asked.

Lydia knew it was a dumb question but for the moment, it was all she could muster.

A middle aged woman who looked like she could be a tough customer stopped in her tracks sizing up Lydia.  She appeared to be the leader of the four woman group.

“Honey, this place ain’t Disneyland! You better get as far away from this train yard as you can before night falls and you better find a good place to hide for this night. The men in this place are animals, animals that will eat you alive!”

“I don’t know where to go! May I tag along with you and your friends?”

“You don’t need to ask for permission in this place to do anything lady! Just see if you can stay up with us!”

Each of the women was carrying a single plastic bag that contained everything they owned in the world. The five women took off to the north away from the train yard in a brisk trot. By using isolated alleyways and staying off the wide road heading north from the train yard by noon they had reached Tropicana Boulevard. The five women had managed to avoid any wandering male gang members. They were hiding behind a dumpster wall in what appeared to be an old Subway establishment taking a brief break resting in the shade of the dumpster wall. The hot desert air was stifling and was having an impact on the fleeing women. Their bodies and hair was soaked with sweat. The heat in Sin City prison at this time of year was brutal.

“What is your name young lady?” asked the leader of the pack in a whisper, attempting to catch her breath.

“Lydia, Lydia Holder,” she answered.

“Last names are not necessary in this place Lydia. My name is Sally and this is Glenda, Connie and Brenda.”

“Are you all friends?”

The women, who were all older than Lydia, laughed softly. Brenda and Glenda were constantly peeking in every direction standing behind the wall. They were the assigned lookouts. They each were carrying a piece of lead pipe two feet in length that they had found in an alley during the brief journey.

“No, we just met each other on the prison train. We have to find water and shelter for tonight first thing,” replied Sally.

“I brought some water and candy bars with me. The candy bars might be slightly gooey right now,” said Lydia.

“You did? You are a smart girl Lydia. I like this young lady already,” said Sally softly.

Sally held out her right hand and Lydia surrendered her sixteen ounce bottle of water. As Sally opened the container she spoke.

“Okay girls, one small sip each is all to wet your mouth. We need to conserve our water for now. I have no idea of where to get water in this God forsaken place.”

After each woman took a small sip Sally returned the water to Lydia.

“Take good care of that small plastic bottle girl. That is all we have right now between living and dying of dehydration.”

“Where are we going?” asked Lydia.

“We need to get to the intersection of Sahara on the main drag.”

Sally pointed to a large black building rising high into the sky far above what remained of the skyline of the northern part of the Strip.

“That tall building looks fairly close,” whispered Lydia.

“It isn’t. We have to travel through five miles of hell. The old City Center Resort is now the Black Mambas home and the place is packed with those sickos. Caesars Palace is home to the Latino Kings and we have to sneak past them too. We are going to have to go west for a couple of miles then head north until we hit a road named Sahara, Then we can work our way back east to the Fontainebleau Tower. That is the Dykes turf.”

“You seem to know this place well,” said Lydia.

“I should. I grew up and lived here for a while. Let’s go girls. If we are lucky and if we hustle we might make Sahara by nightfall. There are a lot of good places to hide in that area for the night plus most of the male gang members don’t dare venture into that general area at night.”

“Why is that?” asked Lydia.

“That is because the Dykes control the north part of the Strip all the way from Sahara to Charleston Avenue. If they find a Latino King or a Black Mamba prowling around that area when it is dark they will kill them on the spot or so I have heard.”

“The Dykes?  What is that?” asked Lydia.

The older women looked at each with surprised looks on their faces.

“Honey, how long were you in the slammer before they sent you here to Sin City prison?” asked Brenda.

“Two months is all I spent in jail. The day after I was sentenced I was on the train to Sin City.”

“What did you do to land in here?” asked Sally.

Lydia squirmed a little, looking at the ground but she finally answered Sally’s question.

“I killed my husband two months ago. He was beating me and threatening to kill me so I used his shotgun to defend myself when he went to get his pistol. The judge didn’t believe me so he sent me here.”

“Lord, justice is quick now in America. Where did this happen?” asked Sally.

“I lived in Texas, Dallas, Texas.”

“That place is even worse now the crime crusade has kicked into high gear. The Dykes are an all female gang with a lot of members. They own the tall tower across the street from where the Strat once stood. If we survive this night we might be allowed to join their ranks. At least staying close to their clubhouse will give us a little safety until each of us decides what to do. Let’s get moving.”

The women soon discovered they were fortunate to be delivered to Sin City in July. The summer gave them more daylight to travel. They also discovered that by receiving this benefit they were paying a price. In July Sin City was hot.

During their short journey two events happened, one bringing joy and one eliciting sheer terror.

After four more hours of cautiously moving through alleys and avoiding the main roadways they took a break in a small house on a side street just past Flamingo Road in a deteriorating neighborhood. Poking around in the abandoned house they discovered a small six pack of bottled water sitting on a table. This was a big break. While in the house they heard screams that were originating from the main road. Creeping upstairs in the two story wood house they could clearly see Flamingo Road and could see what was happening to cause the blood curdling screams.

On the north sidewalk of the six lane highway were a group of men who were obviously locals and three women who had arrived on today’s prison train. There were at least ten to fifteen piecemeal bikes lying on the street. Viewing the logos on the back of the men’s various vests the five women, peering out of the second floor window, could clearly see the word Kings. Two of the captive women were young and the third appeared to be about the same age as Sally. The five women in the house watched as the men began taking turns raping the three captive women on the hot sidewalk. After ten minutes of listening to their screams Sally spoke.

“I have seen enough. Now is the time to get out of here while those animals are preoccupied.”

“What about the three women?” asked Lydia.

Her body was shaking now more than ever. She was now very fearful about serving her time in the Sin City prison.

“They are dead now no matter what we do and that is something that I am trying to avoid. Stay here if you want girls but I am heading north right now. If you go with me keep your eyes open. I am sure there are more of these animals in this area. Those girls were ignorant to be walking on the sidewalk in plain view.”

Sally eased down the stairs leading up to the second floor and exited out to the alley, cautiously peeking out the door quickly in both directions. Then she hit the street walking briskly heading north. The remaining four women followed. After another block she entered another abandoned house. Once everyone was inside she closed the rear door slowly. She placed her finger to her lips to instruct everyone to be silent. Everyone froze and listened. The screams of the three women could still be heard a block away.

“We will wait here for an hour. That screaming will bring other gang members who want to get in on the action, including rival gang members. If those poor women had made it another two miles they might have been rescued by the Dykes but this turf is probably controlled by the Black Mambas and the Latino Kings. Either way, this is no place to be for a woman.”

“So these male gangs automatically rape any women they run across?” asked Lydia with fear in her eyes.

“Hell yeah they do! Pussy is hard to find in Sin City. There aren’t that many women in the prison.”

“Will those men kill those women?”

Sally shook her head no.

“Speak softly Lydia. No they won’t kill them for now, at least intentionally. They are too young. They will use them as club whores as rewards for their homies and use them as slaves to do their menial chores. Once they get used up, get old, or get sick is when they will get rid of them.”

“That is horrible,” said Lydia.

“You won’t find any old women in Sin City Lydia. If you did run across one I would imagine that she would be as tough as nails and a killer. We just need to take our time and get to Sahara Road by nightfall. We are doing well with our time so far.”

Suddenly the five women heard a strange voice. The voice came from behind a china cabinet that was sitting in the corner of the room.

“I agree with the first part of your statement but I’m not a cold blooded killer. I only kill in self defense.”

The china cabinet, which was apparently on rollers, moved to the left on the tile floor two feet and then stopped. An elderly woman stepped out into the living room. She was roughly five feet seven inches in height and looked to be in excellent physical condition. Sally figured she was at least fifty years in age and was pretty for her age. She had a nice smile and was using that attribute for the moment.

She was also carrying an AK47 in her hands equipped with a homemade silencer.

“We don’t want any trouble ma’am,” said Sally softly.

Sally’s four friends were frozen with fear.

“That’s good. What are you doing in my house?” she asked.

“I didn’t know that anyone lived here. We were just trying to avoid the Kings. We will be going….”

“I wouldn’t be going if I was you right now. This area will be crawling with gang members attracted by all the screaming. The Kings are a stupid bunch of assholes. You would think they would learn after seven years to gag their captives and get them back to their clubhouse. Two months ago they lost ten of their own gang members when the Black Mambas heard all the screams and went to see what was happening. It was a bloody fight and happened just about at the same spot where they have those women now. How many women are they raping?”

“There were three,” answered Lydia sitting down on a nearby wooden chair.

The elderly woman eyed Lydia intently.

“That young girl doesn’t look well. There is some cold water in that refrigerator in the kitchen. Why don’t one of you get her a drink?” she asked motioning with her assault rifle.

Brenda walked into the kitchen to get Lydia some cold water. She was surprised to find a working refrigerator. She returned to the living room with a glass of cold, clean water.

“You have electricity?” asked Sally.

“I have had electricity for a few years now. Solar panels hidden on the roof don’t make any noise. I wish I could air condition this place but that is too noisy. Are you girls from the Dykes?”

“No, we are new arrivals. We got here this morning. I am trying to get to Sahara to get on friendlier turf and meet with the Dykes,” answered Sally.

“How do you know the area?” asked the elderly woman.

“I grew up here. And you?”

“No I grew up in a place called Oviedo in Central Florida. I was in the first batch of arrivals seven years ago and just got lucky. That first year in Sin City was a dangerous one. I found this house during that time and have been here hiding ever since.”

“My name is Sally. My friends are Brenda, Glenda, Connie and the young one is Lydia.”

“My name is Margaret but my friends call me Mags.”

“How in the hell have you managed to survive in this God forsaken place for seven years?” asked Sally.

“Well, the Dykes are my good friends for one and my house is on the edge of their turf. So are the Reformers but they are worthless when it comes to defense. My little gun has also helped me a lot over the past few years.”

“How did you manage to acquire a weapon like that? I thought the new nations cleared the city of guns while the wall was being built?”

“It was too big of a job and I just got lucky again. When I took shelter in this house during the first month I discovered a basement with hidden steps behind that china cabinet. The guy who owned this house was a teamster named Robert and he had to leave the guns once the country went to hell. I think he was a survivalist type of man because I have had plenty of food and power the last seven years plus the Dykes traded me a ton of food for one AK47 and a box of ammo.”

“So the Dykes have real guns?”

“Oh hell yeah. They have a machine shop and make their own. They have also learned how to make gunpowder. They just keep a low profile with the weapons. We don’t want the military coming in here and killing everyone to take all the weapons. As long as the inmates just kill each other they don’t care.”

“Margaret, you are an amazing woman,” said Sally.

“My friends call me Mags.”

“May we call you Mags?” asked Lydia.

“That is a rarity around here, a person with manners. Sure, all of you can call me Mags. You all seem to be well behaved inmates.”

Mags was still holding her AK47 and the safety was off.  Sally noticed this fact. She figured this survivor never trusted anybody.

“Thanks for the shelter and the cold water but we need to get going Mags. It will be getting dark in four more hours.”

The women in the house could still hear the women screaming a block away. All five of the new arrivals looked uneasily at one another while Mags fiddled with her AK47 finally locking the weapon where it wouldn’t fire by accident. She cradled the assault rifle in her arms.

“You ladies can go if you want but if I were you I would at least stay here another hour or if you want, you are welcome to stay for the night. The Mambas and the Kings know about the arrival of the prison train. They will be sending out teams throughout the night recruiting new members, killing people who are not their type and hoping to find women like you for their homies. After tonight things will be quieter. Is there a reason to rush to Sahara Avenue?”

“No, there is no reason. I just don’t like to impose on people,” answered Sally.

Mags laughed.

“You won’t be imposing on me. You should probably wait here for the night. Tomorrow morning one of the captains for the Dykes will be dropping by to check up on me and the neighborhood. I can introduce the two of you. I think that would be a smart move on your part.”

“Uh Mags, how many people like you are in the Sin City prison?” asked Connie.

“There are a few that I know of that are nearby. I don’t see them often. I stay in this house and live my life. The streets are far too dangerous even in broad daylight to be walking around like a tourist as you now know.”

The five new arrivals nodded their heads in agreement. The streets of Sin City were indeed, very dangerous.

They took Mags up on her offer and stayed in the secure basement of her home for the night exchanging the stories of their lives. It was soon clear that Mags was a lonely woman.

* * * * *

Chapter Two

Preacher Joe

The five new prisoners in Sin City slept well on comfortable cots and two couches that were in Mags’ basement hideaway. It was eight in the morning when Sally awakened to aromas she had not smelled since she was a young child.

She was one of the two lucky ones who was afforded the use of a comfortable large couch to rest on for the night. As she sat up she saw Mags hard at work in her kitchen. She threw off the light blanket she had used that night and sat up on the couch. She was sore from the brutal hike she had made yesterday morning to escape the train yard. She was also surprised how cool it was this morning, as if the basement had the luxury of air conditioning. She arose to her feet and looked around. Her four fellow female inmates were still soundly sleeping. She walked into the surprisingly large kitchen where Mags was hard at work.

“Mags, you should have awakened me to give you a hand,” she said.

Then she hugged the elderly woman around her shoulders. Mags hugged her back and began to cry softly.

“What’s wrong Mags?”

“Nothing really. It is just moments like last night and this morning are rare now days in this world. I have really enjoyed the company of you and your friends for the short time you have been here.”

Then she bent over and removed the food from her small electric oven that she had been preparing this morning.

“I can never repay you for what you have done Mags. You saved our lives to live at least another day.”

“You don’t have to thank me Sally. I feel like you and your friends are good people no matter what you have done before. I am worried about the young girl Lydia. She is very naïve and I can tell that she is a good girl. She is also very pretty and that is not a good thing to be in this town. It is hard to believe that society sent her to this hell hole within two months after killing her husband. I remember when it took twenty years to execute an inmate and that was after having the benefit of a ton of free lawyers. We don’t hear much about what is going on outside that big damn wall. The three governments jam any communication attempts with the big ass wall, somehow. Thank God Robert had a large DVD collection in the basement. It has helped me pass the time these past seven years.”

“Well, things seem to getting better to some extent in your life Mags. There are still a lot of people destined to come to Sin City in the coming years. You are a heroine to me Mags, kind of like those people who helped the Jews get out of Germany, except you helped five women get past the male gangs near the railroad yards. You would think the three nations would help get females to a safe place in Sin City. This place will always be heavily populated with dangerous men. What can I do to help with breakfast?”

“There are a few good men in Sin City but not many. There are some foam plates in the right cabinet above the sink that you can use to set the table. There are also some boxes in the same cabinet that have plastic forks, spoons and knives. I am sorry about not using real dinnerware but good water is hard to find inside the prison and I have always hated doing dishes.”

Mags had a slight smile on her face for some reason. Sally wasn’t sure if it was about the foam plates or because of her comment about a few good men.

“How do you get your water?”

“Oh, the water system still works in Las Vegas. The new governments didn’t shut that down at least but they did shut down the water plant that is supposed to purify the water supply. You grew up here! The water has never been good in Las Vegas for years. I have a small reverse osmosis water filtration system under the sink that provides my drinking water and I have plenty of charcoal and filters for the system. Other than that, I don’t need good water to wash my butt when I need to take a shower. Whatever you do, don’t drink the water out of any spigots in this town. That might kill you eventually.”

As Sally set the table Mags toted over a large plastic platter that was laden with a cooked ham that smelled delicious.

“Is that ham Mags?”

“Yes it is. I have a lot of canned ham in one of my basement cabinets. Some of the ham I got from the Dykes and other cans were left by Robert.”

“Robert…the guy who owned this house at one time?”

“Yes,” answered Mags softly.

Sally knew she had said something to touch Mags’ soul.

“Did you know this Robert fellow Mags?”

Mags stiffened at first because of Sally’s question, then relaxed.

“Yes I did. I knew him very well. He was a good man and at one time he was my lover here in Sin City. This was actually his house before the riots, the declaration of martial law and before all the crime started in the cities.”

Sally contemplated not addressing this line of conversation any further but she sensed that Mags wanted to converse more about the subject.

“I don’t want to pry Mags and if you don’t want to talk about this any further then that will be okay with me but, how did that happen? Did he hide in the basement while the wall was being built?”

“No, Robert was a real man. He wasn’t the type to hide from anyone or anything. When the three new nations decided to turn Las Vegas into a big prison they came to forcefully remove the die hard residents who remained after the economy collapsed. They didn’t offer any compensation because money was worthless. When they came to remove Robert from this house with force the coalition found out what force was all about. Robert killed fourteen of their bad ass soldiers before they brought him down.”

“The three nation’s troops killed him?”

“Almost. He was shot in his right leg and then they tasered him. He fully recovered while he was in prison awaiting trial, back in the days when prisoners were taken care of. Once the Sin City prison was put into operation he was on the same train I was on when I arrived.  When I got off the train I was attacked by two male inmates who were intent on having their way with me. Robert knew before he got to Sin City what life was going to be like. Somehow he managed to smuggle in a large knife in his plastic bag. He quickly dispatched both of those men and grabbed my hand. We took off together and eventually made our way to his house. We were on the second train on the first day the prison opened up. I still have nightmares about that day. There was a lot of killing. Back then the pigs would drop you off in the downtown train yards which was a lot closer to the house than where they drop off people now. If it weren’t for that man I would be long dead.”

“So it was love at first sight.”

Mags’ face grew red because of Sally’s comment.

“Yes it was. I knew it and he knew that first night. Robert was the love of my life. I will never find another man like him. I miss him every day of my life.”

“What happened to Robert?”

“He died of a heart attack a little over a year ago. He had high blood pressure problems. He had a lot of medicine stockpiled in the basement when we arrived here at the house to last for quite a while. The pigs don’t provide any medical care for the inmates in Sin City. If you have a health problem and the judge sends you here that is the same as a death sentence. After six years he ran out of his medical stash. He had lost a lot of weight over the six years anticipating his running out of meds and that helped but not enough.  Two months after taking his last metoprolol pill I woke up in bed and he was dead. It was the worst day in my life. I cried for weeks after that but realized thanks to the Preacher that life goes on.”

“I am so sorry Mags,” said Sally.

“Don’t be sorry, Sally. Robert and I really lived. I just miss the good sex and his companionship…but mostly the good sex,” she said with a laugh.

Sally laughed with her. Their laughter woke up the four women sleeping in the living room.

Soon every one was enjoying a good breakfast. The four friends of Sally were amazed that Mags had the ability to provide for such a meal. The elderly lady had made ham, pancakes with syrup and more impressive, provided a glass of cold milk for each of her guests.

“Where did you get the milk Mags?” asked Connie after taking a big swig of the liquid.

“I have a lot of dry milk in one of the cabinets. With some fresh water and a few other ingredients it tastes pretty good. Not as good as fresh milk but not bad.”

“It is delicious Mags,” added Lydia.

Suddenly a faint beeping in the kitchen could be heard.

Mags jumped up from the table.

“Don’t be alarmed girls because I think that is Preacher Joe and Sandra coming for a visit. Just give me a moment to check that out. Go ahead and eat. They will be joining us for breakfast this morning. They are late, probably because of the gang patrols in this area. The Preacher probably gave an impromptu sermon to some of the Latino Kings on the way here. He is always giving impromptu sermons in this town,” she said as she started to head to a small room off the living room area in the basement hideaway.

“Can I be of any help?” asked Lydia.

At first Mags hesitated to answer but finally spoke.

“Sure Lydia. If anyone else wants to see my security setup follow me. It is the best that Las Vegas has to offer. Robert was really into security.”

All of the women at the breakfast table rose to follow Mags into the living room in the basement where another china cabinet stood, similar to the china cabinet that was in the upstairs living room.  The elderly woman opened a closet door ten feet away from the china cabinet to reveal a small room adjacent to the living room. The room was similar to a large closet. Sally estimated the room to be eight feet by twelve feet. It was just large enough for six people to enter allowing one to sit in a computer chair that was next to a custom built counter top that spanned the length of one of the longer walls.

Above this counter were twelve seventeen inch monitors fastened to the wall displaying images of the terrain that was close and not so close to Mags’ house. On one of the monitors were the image of a man and a woman waiting in what appeared to be a small foyer.

“That is the back entrance to the house where you all entered yesterday. The man and woman are Preacher Joe and Sandra. It looks like to me that they weren’t followed,” she said while surveying the other monitors.

She pushed a button on the counter near her keyboard. The women watched as the man known as Preacher Joe opened the back door and motioned for his female guest to enter Mags’ house.

“Magnetic locks,” she said with a smile.

“So you let us into your house yesterday, didn’t you Mags?” exclaimed Lydia.

“Yeah, I had my eye on your group as you worked your way down the alley. I knew that you were in trouble and I knew that no one was following you. Jesus was watching over you five ladies yesterday.”

Lydia bent over and hugged the elderly woman.

“Thank you so much,” said Lydia.

“You are welcome young lady. Let’s go meet Preacher Joe and Sandra.”

“Who is Preacher Joe and Sandra?” asked Glenda.

“Preacher Joe is with the Reformers. I usually just call him Preacher. Sandra is a captain in the Dykes gang. I think you will find them both…very interesting.”

Mags arose from her computer chair and went to the bottom of the basement stairs. Soon a light knock could be heard at the basement door at the top of the stairs.

“So this man knows about the china cabinet and the basement?” asked Sally.

“Yes he does. I have known Preacher and Sandra for five years now. You will not meet any finer people on this world. You will see. I am going to introduce the five of you to them both. Sandra is your key to getting into the Dykes’ compound.”

“What about the fellow you call Preacher?” asked Lydia.

Mags grinned broadly.

“You will like Preacher, Lydia. He is a very unique…preacher.”

Then she laughed as she pressed a hidden button underneath the stair rail.

“Magnetic locks?” asked Sally.

Mags nodded her head yes then turned her head to watch the basement door open.

Descending down the stairs was a gorgeous well built blonde woman. She was dressed in a black body suit covering a supple body from the neckline to her ankles. She was also wearing black high top tennis shoes along with black gym shorts. She had closely cropped blond hair cut in a short Mohawk hair style. Slung on her back was the trademark pneumatic gun that all of the Dyke gang members carried. She had piercing blue eyes. On the outside world she could easily had made a living as a model. Sally estimated she was at least six feet in height and she looked like she could handle herself.

Behind her was a young man who looked to be of partial American Indian descent. He was dressed in a tight fitting black tee shirt and black jeans. He was also wearing black high top hiking shoes. Even his long hair, which was pulled behind his head in a long pony tail, was jet black. To top off the way he appeared, he was wearing a black leather vest. Underneath the vest Lydia could see several pistols in body holsters close to each side of his chest.  Preacher Joe could have made a living in the outside world as a model and he looked to be very athletic.

As the two individuals reached the bottom of the stairs they both hugged Mags for a long moment.

“Hi Mags! Is everything going well?” asked the blonde while giving the elderly woman a firm hug for a long moment.

“I am doing well! Hi Preacher! I see you managed to not get yourself killed since the prison train arrived yesterday.”

“Hi Mags! How is my favorite woman in the world doing?” he asked softly.

The young man embraced Mags, picking her off the ground while giving her a firm kiss on her left cheek.

“Oh stop it Preacher! I won’t be able to walk for an hour or two now!”

The elderly woman kept her right arm around Preachers waist once he gently lowered her to the kitchen floor.

“Girls, this is Preacher! His real name is Joe. If he would abandon his Christian beliefs I would screw him at the drop of a hat! I love this man!”

Sandra and Joe laughed along with Mags. The new arrivals didn’t know what to say or how to act. Finally Sally spoke.

“I am pleased to meet you. This is Lydia, Connie, Brenda and Glenda. We arrived on the prison train yesterday.”

Joe laughed.

“Yes we have all been there and done that! How do you like our fair city so far?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Joe, what kind of damn question is that? I would imagine Mags’ new friends are scared to death. We were watching the street activity yesterday with our binocular viewers on the observation deck on the top floor of the clubhouse and saw what was happening on Flamingo yesterday. The area was crawling with male gang patrols. I hate the Latino King Gang members. I wish every one of those assholes would drop dead one day,” said Sandra.

“Sandy was telling me on the way over here that they raped three women yesterday near the house. I wish I had been on this side of town but I was busy near McCarran Airport yesterday,” said Joe.

“I didn’t see it but I heard it Preacher. It didn’t sound good and there were too many of the creeps to go out and stop it with my AK47. I ain’t as young as I used to be. My new friends saw what happened. They said it was brutal and it certainly sounded like it was. You can certainly count on more than three people being raped yesterday after the train arrival, both men and women,” said Mags.

“Young lady, I don’t ever want you going out of this house to stop something like that. I think after that last trainload of prisoners and allowing for the summer heat the stench of death is going to get stronger in the Sin City prison during the next two weeks. At the daily prayer meeting this morning at the Luxor there was a lot of talk about the confrontations that occurred yesterday between the gangs. That is all the Reformers can do, is talk,” said Joe.

“So Preacher, are you really a preacher, a man of God?” asked Sally.

Mags and Sandra both laughed…hard.

Joe had a serious look on his face.

“I am learning the way of the Lord but I must admit, living in this prison, I keep back sliding every now and then. I am still studying the teachings of Jesus at the Luxor with the Reformers.”

Joe was not laughing.

“Preacher is a man of God, he just doesn’t know it yet. He is a lot like my Robert. How he manages to stay alive roaming the city alone worries me all of the time. He doesn’t listen to me, just like Robert,” said Mags.

“I don’t understand,” said Sally.

“Joe is the best scout the Dykes has. He roams the prison getting information on the pervert male gangs for the Reformers and for us. That is how we have managed over the years to stay ahead of the creeps,” said Sandra while giving Joe a firm hug.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” asked Lydia.

Joe focused his attention on Lydia. He sized her up quickly. By all measure, Lydia was a very attractive young blonde woman.

“It can be at times. I have been blessed and protected by God. Also, I have been very lucky.”

“Preacher is an amazing man,” said Mags with a sigh.

“Did you get my consecration tools in good working order Mags?” he asked.

“I had just finished right before our new friends arrived yesterday. They are in my bedroom. You can leave those second hand guns you are carrying for me to clean. Do you want to go with me to get them Preacher?” asked Mags with a devious smile on her face.

“You can bring them out here Mags. The last time I went with you in the bedroom you attacked me!” answered Joe.

“You can’t blame a girl for trying. I will be right back.”

Mags left the living room and went into her bedroom to retrieve Joe’s consecration tools.

“Mags seems to really like you Preacher,” said Sally.

“Yes she does. I love Mags. If there were more people like Mags in this world it would be a better place to live plus she has helped me tremendously to spread the word of God in this prison.”

Mags returned to the living room carrying two leather belts. She carefully placed the belts on the table in the living room. Then reaching into what looked to be a large purse that most women Mags’ age liked to carry she pulled out a Mac ten automatic pistol and then another. She continued to reach into the purse and placed two more pistols on the table.

“I had to give the Glock nineteens a really good cleaning Preacher. You got them pretty dirty on your last outing. Next time you use them don’t be so close to whoever you gave communion to. There was a lot of splattered blood on both of the Glocks. The Macs were as clean as a whistle. I guess you didn’t use them much on your last pilgrimage.”

The Preacher smiled.

“You are correct Mags. I didn’t find that many converts and I didn’t conduct many communion services. Times are getting tough in the Sin City prison. Maybe after this new batch of arrivals I will find more Christians to join the Reformers.”

The newest arrivals to the Sin City prison had confused looks on their faces. Sandra slinked up to the Preacher and wrapped her arms around his neck planting a kiss on his right cheek. Then she turned to face the new female inmates.

“The Preacher is the finest man of the cloth walking these streets. He has been conducting services for the last five years.”

“Just what kind of service do you conduct Joe?” asked Lydia.

“Sandra tends to exaggerate my body of work.”

Sandra grinned at the women.

“Some body. Let’s put it this way. If Preacher had been in your area yesterday those three women would not have been raped and taken by the Kings.”

“I can’t be everywhere Sandra,” said Joe softly.

“What kind of man of God are you?” asked Sally.

“A vengeful one I guess. People in this town need to obey the laws of God and the teachings of Jesus Christ. If they are not willing to listen when I catch them in the act of committing a sin then I send them on their way to be judged.”

“You send them on their way where?” asked Lydia.

“I send them to be judged. Only God determines where they will go but they certainly don’t need to be here. Things are bad enough in this prison.”

The young man removed the second hand guns he was wearing and fitted the two belts to his torso and holstered his newly cleaned weapons.

“Okay Sandra, I think we are ready to escort our new friends to the Dykes’ clubhouse.”

At first the five new arrivals did not move and seemed hesitate to do so.

“Preacher, they aren’t through eating. You and Sandra need to sit down, relax and join us for breakfast. I made enough food for everyone. Maybe you could give a blessing for our meal?” asked Mags.

Joe looked at Sandra who nodded her head yes.

“I could use a good meal, especially one of Mags’ home cooked meals. I am starving and I didn’t get a chance to go to the cafeteria this morning. Let’s eat before we go Preacher. We have plenty of time and my girls on patrol will wait for us,” said Sandra.

The odd couple pulled up two chairs to the table and sat down, which made Mags very happy. As Mags sat down she spoke excitedly.

“Preacher, would you give our meal a blessing?”

The young man, armed to the teeth, blessed the morning meal in a casual way. Interlocking his hands and placing his elbows on the table he said a prayer.

“Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub.”

“Preacher! That’s not funny!” yelled Mags, glaring at the young man.

The Preacher grinned and then proceeded to give a more eloquent blessing at the breakfast table.

* * * * *

Chapter Three

The White Widow

After finishing an enjoyable breakfast and helping Mags clean up her kitchen the small group of new female inmates along with Preacher Joe and Sandra made their way to Sahara Boulevard without any incidents. During the two mile trip using back alleyways they viewed many roaming male gang members patrolling the streets on bicycles looking for wayward new arrivals but the Preacher knew where to go and where to hide. He was not going to place his new guests into any jeopardy for now. It was soon apparent to the new five female inmates that the Preacher was very familiar with the terrain in Sin City prison. It was also apparent from the discussions he had had with the Dyke gang member named Sandra that the Preacher longed to give his special sermon to the male gang members cruising on bicycles looking for trouble in this part of Sin City prison. The gorgeous blonde woman had barely managed to talk him into executing the task at hand, getting the new arrivals safely to the Dykes’ clubhouse.

“Okay ladies, this is Sahara Boulevard. We are now on the Dykes’ turf so I doubt if we run across any Latino Kings or Black Mambas running loose. Sandra will take over from here and get everyone to her clubhouse,” said the Preacher.

“You are leaving us Preacher?” asked Sally.

Sandra blew a unique sounding whistle which was hanging on a stout leather necklace around her neck. Instantly a hundred female members or more stepped out of numerous abandoned buildings along Sahara Boulevard. All were carrying the pneumatic bow and every one of the women looked like they meant business.

The Preacher smiled.

“You ladies are safe for now. You will be escorted to their clubhouse and be given the opportunity to live at the tower and meld into their way of life or go your own way. I suggest you join them. They are not crazy like the male gangs and are disciplined in their beliefs in which I agree with. If you don’t want to join their ranks you will be welcome to leave. If you do that I suggest you head north. There are some fringe gangs you will have to be worried about but that is just the way it is in Sin City. Only the strong survive alone. It has been nice meeting you ladies.”

Then the Preacher disappeared into a nearby building.

“Where would he be going Sandra? Is he returning to the Luxor?” asked Lydia watching the Preacher disappear into the shadows of a large building on Sahara Boulevard.

Sandra laughed as the members of the Dykes surrounded the new arrivals, eyeing them intently.

“I doubt it, at least for today. The Preacher frequently leaves the Luxor Resort and roams at times for days and sometimes weeks in the prison. It drives the Reformers crazy. They have received reports of what he is doing but they have never caught him with a weapon on his body when he returns. I don’t think he is staying at the Luxor for any stretch of time. He has done more good in this hellhole than any other man. I can tell you that he has doubled back to check up on Mags and then he will be on the prowl in her neighborhood for the rest of this day and most of the night conducting his special sermons on any of those male gang members we saw earlier on their bikes. There were a lot of gang members on the loose today and I could tell he wanted to conduct some of his sermons for those unfortunate souls. You will hear those Mac tens going off sometime today and probably tonight. He doesn’t like any males prowling in Mags’ neighborhood.”

“I am happy he is going to check on Mags. She is a special lady,” said Lydia.

“I was surprised about those rapes on Flamingo yesterday. That area of town is known to be off limits normally to the male gangs. That area is where the Preacher performs most of his communion ceremonies. I think the male gangs are becoming more assertive for some reason.  Mags is Preacher’s aunt by marriage. His father was Robert’s older brother. The male gangs know nothing about Mags but they know that turf is the Preacher’s hunting grounds. I was surprised to see so many gang members today. It makes me think they knew he was hanging near McCarran Airport when the prison train arrived,” said Sandra.

“So the Preacher has killed a lot of men?” asked Sally.

“The Preacher doesn’t look at it like that. To him, he has saved a lot of people and sent a hell of lot more to be judged. He has executed thousands of criminals the last five years. He only kills them when he catches them in the act of breaking a commandment like thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not rape, things like that. You won’t find a better man in this hell hole. He has gone with me and my squad on patrol many times. He is a person that doesn’t mess around when it comes to judging people in this prison.”

“What was he sent to prison for?” asked Connie.

Sandra and many members of the Dykes laughed.

“Preacher wasn’t sent to Sin City prison! He broke in here to protect Mags and Robert or so the story goes. Is that a crazy story or not? He had his own church in Phoenix but when they built this place and sent Robert to prison he suddenly showed up one day. He has returned to Phoenix several times during the last five years to get critical medicine for the Dykes. No one knows how he comes and goes out of Sin City prison. That is supposed to be impossible,” said Sandra.

“Then… how does he do it?” asked Lydia.

“He tells everyone it is a miracle from God and that is all he says,” answered Sandra.

“Sandra, we must get going,” said one of the Dykes’ soldiers.

“Okay girls, let’s take a stroll down Sahara. We are only a mile and half away. It should only take us a half an hour to get to the Fontainebleau. Follow me ladies.”

Just as Sandra said, it took a half an hour for the group to walk west down Sahara Boulevard. As the group of women approached the intersection of Sahara Boulevard and the Las Vegas Strip they encountered a large wall of concrete that straddled across the four lane highway. At the south end of the forty foot high mass of concrete was a crumpled mass of metal, insulation, aluminum girders and shattered glass.

“What in the hell is that?” asked Lydia.

“That, my new friends, is what remains of a structure that was once called the Stratosphere Casino. It was toppled by the outfit known to the outside world as the Free America movement. They placed the dynamite so the building would fall across Sahara Boulevard to land in the deserted field and not on occupied buildings at the time. Whoever was in charge knew what he was doing. They damaged the tower to where it didn’t fall right away. That gave everyone in the casino time to escape. It fell the day after FEMA Camp 37 was blown to bits. We found a tunnel that goes through to the Strip that is in the center of the fallen structure. What is amazing is that concrete monstrosity is hollow on the inside. When it fell, the concrete support didn’t break apart that much and we use it for some of our squads who return and go out on patrol. It is a great barricade that protects our clubhouse from any attack from the west. Just follow me through this opening. We aren’t far from the entrance to our clubhouse.”

“I remember when that happened! That was the day the Second Civil War started!” exclaimed Sally.

“Yeah, that was the day. We have missed most of the war being locked up. The Free America people blew up FEMA Camp 37 a second time since then. Those people, at least the ones here in this state, play rough, real rough. I wish they would blow up that big ass wall surrounding Las Vegas. If I had a chance to fight the federal government I would certainly join them,” said Sandra.

“I heard a lot about them when I was incarcerated. I think they call their soldiers scouts,” interjected Connie.

“Yeah, they are called scouts. Of the top five most wanted people of the Free America operatives, two of them are women. That says a lot to me,” replied Sandra softly.

“I know a lot about those two. One is called the Pale Rider and the other is called….I can’t remember her name off the top of my head,” said Sally.

“The other one is known as the Night Ranger. She and two other female scouts were the ones who freed the people in FEMA Camp 43. Now that camp is a free city that is giving the federal government fits in the west. She is the one who made it possible for Fort Shultz to come into existence,” concluded Sandra.

“I have heard things about them but never paid much attention. I was in high school at the time and things like that were not allowed to be discussed. I bet it would be interesting to meet them, especially after witnessing what has been going on here in Sin City prison,” said Lydia.

“Yeah, I would certainly like to meet them in my life but that will never happen. We all will probably die in this prison. We are here, girls. Watch your step and follow me. We have installed lights so you can see where and what you are stepping on. There is a lot of rebar that you have to watch out for but it is a fairly easy walkway to navigate,” said Sandra.

The women easily traversed the tunnel passage and emerged from the east side of the body of the fallen Stratosphere Tower. Once they arrived at Las Vegas Boulevard they found a wall of steel forty feet in height constructed on the curb on the east side of the street next to the sidewalk. The steel wall looked like it went completely around the Fontainebleau running along the Strip and the service road running east and west, then turning to follow the perimeter of the massive resort. The tower itself climbed seventy seven stories above the street. At the top of the wall were many women standing guard with pneumatic bows. Sandra walked up to a door that resembled a vault door found in a bank.

“Welcome to my home ladies. We will go to our orientation building to get some information from you. We will answer your questions about the Dykes and what we do to live and to survive in Sin City. Then I will take you on a tour of the clubhouse and answer more questions. Finally you will be asked what you want to do. If you decide to leave we will not hold that against you and wish you the best of luck.”

The massive metal door opened and the women proceeded inside. As the door quietly shut Sally and the four new female inmates were stunned because of what they saw next. In an open area of the resort was an elaborate playground and the playground was full of young children, the oldest appearing to be six or seven years of age.

“Oh my God! There are kids in the prison!” exclaimed Lydia.

Sandra laughed at her surprise.

“Yes there are Lydia. They are our children. The government won’t take them and we don’t want the government to take them anyway. In fact, we don’t want the government to know we have kids. We will raise them here for now. As mothers that is the only choice we have.”

“Are they from prisoners who arrived here pregnant?” asked Sally.

“A lot of them are. Some are the result of rapes. We love them all.”

“Do the other gangs know about this?” asked Connie.

“I don’t think so but who cares if they do? The Reformers know. There are a few preachers who teach at our elementary school every week. They have been a big help.”

“I see little boys! How many children are here?” asked Lydia.

“There are over a thousand. In another eight years we should have a good sized high school on the premises,” answered Sandra.

“But they are in prison Sandra! They will never know what it’s like to be free!” exclaimed Sally.

“They are free Sally. The children are more free here than the citizens in what is left of the United States of America. When they are ready to go to live on the outside world they will be better equipped than a normal person to live in any of the four nations. They will know how to defend themselves and we are making a concerted effort to educate them. We have six and seven year old kids reading and performing middle school level work right now. We start educating kids when they are old enough to say momma.”

“How are you planning on doing that, getting them to the outside?” asked Sally.

“Preacher will do that.”

“What if Preacher gets killed one of these days?” asked Lydia.

“I have asked him that many times. Like most young people Preacher thinks he will live forever. He just laughs when I ask him and tells me maybe one day he will show me or someone how he gets in and out of Sin City. I am anxiously waiting on that day.”

After going through orientation, answering questions, asking many questions and taking the tour Sally, Brenda, Glenda, Connie and Lydia decided to join the Dykes female gang. They discovered that this gang was no ordinary, self indulgent gang.  They were family orientated and disciplined, which was a necessity in order to survive and thrive in the Sin City complex.

Living at the Fontainebleau was the only sane choice.

*****

One year had now passed since Lydia’s and Sally’s arrival along with their three friends. The women had learned and seen a lot in the past year, some of which were the best things life had to offer and some of which were the worst things life had to offer.

Sally had joined the effort to educate the growing child population in the Dykes’ compound. She was now teaching six year old boys and girls the values of basic math. She was happy. Brenda, Glenda and Connie had immersed themselves in the every day operations that were essential to making the seventy seven story clubhouse function, working wherever they were needed. The five women became close friends during this year. Lydia was the one who caused them worry.

Lydia elected to join the foot patrol squadrons of the Dykes. After passing strenuous and demanding physical and mental training for six months she was finally accepted to prowl the streets of Sin City prison. Lydia was also assigned a pneumatic bow. She was the only one of the five new arrivals who had the athletic build and intestinal fortitude to join the foot patrol ranks. After six months of walking the streets of Sin City, often in Sandra’s platoon, she had proved she also possessed the emotional requirements as well. She had used her pneumatic bow numerous times to kill Latino King and Black Mambas displaying no hesitation to do so when they were causing trouble.  She was starting to get a reputation with the Dykes and rival gangs, often being referred to as the White Widow of Sin City prison. Often she would use her extremely good looks to ferret out the unsavory male elements prowling in Sin City just to kill them once they attacked. She had been reprimanded many times by Sandra for her reckless behavior but never grounded for her actions. Her kill total was growing with each passing day.

Lydia seemed to be on a mission to kill any male who was known to be a rapist or had a reputation for being a woman beater. In the six months on the streets, she had used more aluminum arrows than one hundred of the female foot soldiers combined. What bothered Lydia’s superiors the most is the young woman had a penchant for retrieving any of the aluminum arrows once the kill was complete, often cutting the deadly arrow out of her prey with a large, sharp hunting knife that she always carried strapped to her thigh. At the end of every patrol the young blonde foot soldier would retire to her quarters and stick the bloody arrow in one of her walls. She referred to this wall as her trophy case and now there were well over one thousand arrows prominently displayed. Sandra, the squadron leader for the east side squadrons, was supposed to keep track of kill totals for all of her squads, including individual kill totals. She gave up tracking the White Widow after three months when the young woman’s kill total reached one hundred. Since then, the White Widow had accelerated her actions. She now had a reputation with the rival gangs that was equal to Preacher Joe’s. The blonde haired, good looking woman on Sandra’s squadron was a person to be avoided at all costs if you were in a rival male gang.

During this time she had grown close to Mags, visiting her at least four times a week to make sure she was okay, and she had grown close to the Preacher. Lydia always arranged her schedule to assist the Dykes assigned to the dangerous food pick up duty to provide protection and the Preacher would walk along beside her during the long trip to the train yards. Once the weekly shipment of food was secure the Preacher would walk back with Lydia and the Dyke foot soldiers to the Fontainebleau, something he never did before. The Preacher and Lydia were getting closer to each other with each passing week.

During the food drop in the train yards the male inmates soon learned to cease in the obscene remarks made to any member of the Dykes or to any female when a prison train by chance would arrive if the White Widow was present. During her first month on patrol duty, making her very first trip to pick up food she killed more than twenty rival male gang members for running their mouths at the women. As the volatile situation bordered on an all out gang war, during the ruckus, somehow, the White Widow had managed to sneak up behind the leader of the Latino Kings, placing her deadly weapon directly in his back. Preacher Joe, at the same time, had performed the same miracle with the leader of the Black Mambas, only his sermon was much more violent. Preacher Joe had unleashed his deadly Mac Ten machine guns on the body guards of the leader of the Black Mambas. This time, the young man spared the Black Mambas leader. He also took the time to deliver some passages from the Bible on how men should treat and respect women. Every person in the train yard knew that it was a planned maneuver by the Preacher and the White Widow. To protect his identity from the Reformers on the grounds, Preacher Joe wore a bandanna to cover his face, a bandanna that strangely had the words Free America imprinted over the image of a coiled rattlesnake ready to strike. When the gunfire erupted, the Reformers that were present dropped to their knees, closed their eyes and prayed. Once the confrontation was over, it took the Dykes ten minutes to convince the men who professed their faith in Jesus to stop praying and to stand on their feet.

Lydia made it a point to become familiar with the new female arrivals on any prisoner transport and to encourage them to walk with the Dykes if they wanted to survive in Sin City prison. This had never been done before. There had been several instances of new male arrivals attacking the new female arrivals in broad daylight the minute they jumped off the prison train. These new male arrivals were not affiliated with any gangs in Sin City and were fair game. All these men would become victims of silent death, the pneumatic bow Lydia carried. All of these aggressive new inmates were killed by the White Widow in Sin City Prison the day they arrived. The existing male gang members at the train yard for their weekly food pick up soon discovered that indeed, there was a deadly White Widow loose in Sin City. Lydia had coldly killed many rapists in the past six months witnessed by thousands of inmates and the cameras on top of the fifty foot wall that would capture the violence and televise it to the outside world. All the saved victims were now grateful members of the Dykes.

For the last three months she had been accompanying Preacher on many of his sojourns throughout the Sin City prison. The Preacher had gone to Sandra and asked her permission for the White Widow to accompany him for some of what he called his crusades. He felt sharing this knowledge would be a benefit for the Dykes one of these days. Sandra gave her blessing in the hopes that the Preacher would show Lydia the secret of how he was getting in and out of Sin City. Now after three months. Lydia had learned the terrain of what was once called Las Vegas. She knew where to go, when not to go and what she would find in almost every section of the sprawling prison. She was amazed to find more people like Mags hiding in the prison than she ever imagined. All of these people were happy to receive a visit from the Preacher. Often, he would arrange a visit from the Reformers along with a foot patrol from the Dykes, to discreetly provide food for these recluses, always careful to not reveal to any enemy about their existence. The Preacher knew the prison terrain well. Also during this time, the Preacher had sent many criminals to be judged by God. Lydia found out that what she feared the first day of her arrival was true. There were deadly animals everywhere in Sin City at all times.

This morning Lydia, Sandra, Sally, Brenda and Glenda were having breakfast in Mags’ basement hideaway. It was the first anniversary of their arrival to the prison. Sandra had ordered thousands of Dykes to patrol the neighborhoods early this day to provide cover for their journey. That was one of the perks of being a captain in the Dykes.

They were sitting at Mags’ breakfast table, the same table they sat at a year ago.

“Here is a toast to better times,” said the Preacher raising his coffee cup.

“Here, here!” exclaimed Mags.

Lydia along with the women raised their coffee mugs, clicked them together and took a tentative sip. Mags was known for making a good, hot cup of coffee.

“So tell me Lydia. One year ago if you had asked me I would have never believed that you would become a foot soldier for the Dykes. You were one scared little lady. Tell me how you feel now?” asked Mags.

Lydia squirmed in her seat contemplating how to answer Mags’ question. Preacher Joe and Sandra, now her best friends, were eyeing her intently. She wasn’t expecting such a question and she saw that everyone was watching her waiting for her answer.

“You don’t have to answer that White Widow,” said Sandra with a comforting smile on her face.

“Lydia is a top flight foot soldier for the Dykes. I can vouch for that. She knows what is going on in this prison and she is trying to fix it,” added the Preacher.

Lydia paused for a moment but finally felt that she should offer an answer.

“That is a difficult question to answer but I will try. When I first arrived to Sin City I had heard tales of horror while I was in the state prison. When I looked out of that prison boxcar and saw what was going on in the train yard during the food distribution I knew what I had heard was true and that I was in trouble. Just like Preacher always says, at that time in my life I got lucky or maybe I received a blessing from Jesus. I ran across Sally, Brenda, Glenda and Connie. Thank God they took me under their wings at that moment. Since that day I have met some extraordinary people like Mags, Sandra, Preacher and a lot of others trying to survive in Sin City prison. I have learned how to take care of myself and others. I am not scared of dying anymore because I know that I am alive now and that the Sin City prison is just a temporary stop in my life’s journey. I intend on making this part of my life count.”

“Well said Lydia. You certainly have changed in a very positive manner this last year. I was worried about you that first day,” said Sally.

“Here, here, a toast to the White Widow of Sin City!” exclaimed Sandra.

Everyone lifted their coffee mugs again to toast Lydia.

They continued to have a good time eating Mags’ wonderful food for the next hour. At the end of the meal the Preacher asked a question that shocked everyone at the table.

“Sandra, you are aware that the Dykes need some critical medical supplies for the kids in the compound, aren’t you?” asked Preacher.

“Yes I am. I heard something about that yesterday at our captains meeting but I didn’t pay much attention. They said you were taking care of that as you usually do. It was something about stuff for vaccinations, things like that. Are you making a trip to Phoenix to get the stuff?”

“Yes I am. My church has already scored what we need. There are some good people in Phoenix.”

“Are you still a member of that church Joe?” asked Lydia.

“I was the youth pastor at that church when they opened the Sin City prison,” he answered softly.

No one knew what to say.

“So why did you bring this up Preacher?” asked Sandra.

At first Preacher squirmed as if he didn’t want to say what was on his mind.

“We have a lot of children to take care of now days. I can’t carry everything in just one trip. I was thinking about asking you and Lydia to go with me to help out. Mind you, it is a dangerous trip but thank the Lord I have some very good friends on the outside who will help us get to Phoenix, pick up the medicine and get back again in one piece. There are three fifty pound backpacks waiting for us at the Virgin Mary Church in the north part of Phoenix. I can usually get there in one night, lay low for the day and get back the next night.”

“So are you offering Lydia and I the opportunity to learn the secret of how you get in and out of this God forsaken place?” asked Sandra.

“The children and I need your help. In one of those backpacks is some insulin for two very sick kids.”

“I’m in Joe,” said Lydia without any hesitation.

Sandra was staring down at the table.

“I don’t know what to say Preacher. For six years you have not said anything to anyone about how you get in and out of this prison. I have asked you many times. And now, presto! The opportunity to be free,” said Sandra.

“That is true if that is what you desire Sandra. I was hoping you would help me and return to your calling in Sin City. After all, a lot of people depend on you in this prison. Just help me return with the medical supplies and if freedom on the outside is what you seek then no one will stop you, including me. In my heart and soul, since I have known you, I think you have found freedom here in Sin City. This is home and these people are your family.”

Sandra finally looked up from the table.  Then she let a wicked smile creep across her striking, pretty face.

“I hate it and I love it when you’re right Preacher. When are we leaving?”

“Tonight. After this meal you and Lydia need to go back to the clubhouse and get some rest. I plan on getting some rest here at Mags’ place. I will meet the both of you at the main entry gate of the clubhouse at six o’clock. That will give us two hours of daylight to get across town heading east to where we need to go. Then we will continue to travel while it is dark. It will only take us thirty or forty minutes to breach the wall. We will have some friends waiting on the other side with some surface transportation. We should get to Phoenix sometime in the morning.”

“You have done this before haven’t you?” asked Lydia.

“Many times but not since you have been here. There was no need. Now there is a serious need. There are plans in the making for Sin City prison. Plus, someone needs to know how to get in and out of this place besides me. You two are the most qualified in my opinion.”

“How many times have you done this Joe?” asked Lydia.

“During my first year in Sin City prison I was making the trip once a month because of all the violence and the injuries that resulted from that violence. Things have settled down, become routine the last two years so I haven’t found it necessary to make such a dangerous trip so often.”

“Why is it so dangerous? Nothing could be more dangerous than Sin City!” exclaimed Lydia.

“There are a lot of military bases on the outside of the wall. They are pretty slack however, about looking for inmates. Nobody has ever broken out of Sin City prison but that doesn’t mean they still aren’t looking. And those boys have weapons, sensors and all kind of deadly things that they are more than willing to use. Once we get ten miles away it gets a lot easier.”

“It sounds like an exciting vacation to me!” said Mags.

“A toast to vacation time!” said Sally.

After the toast and helping Mags clean up the kitchen the Dykes gang members returned to their clubhouse while Preacher relaxed on one of Mags couches. He was going to get some rest before tonight’s journey started.

* * * * *

Chapter Four

Family Reunion

The Preacher arrived at the metal gate to the Dyke’s clubhouse at precisely six p.m. Sandra and Lydia were waiting for him. Both of the women, who had gone on patrol many times before with Preacher Joe, were nervous for some unexplained reason. Preacher Joe was as calm as he always was, acting as if this was to be a routine assignment. Lydia and Sandra both were carrying extra supplies, extra arrows and three extra backpacks that were empty. Joe was dressed as he usually dressed in the summer, with his four guns beneath his black vest.

The three travelers mounted three bicycles and along with one hundred foot soldiers from the Dykes, also mounted on bicycles, the large group headed down Sahara Boulevard to Boulder Highway which was a five mile ride. With such a large group of soldiers they encountered no problems. Once reaching Boulder Highway they headed east to travel another six miles. The group finally stopped one mile away from the towering prison wall which spanned the flat land from Black Mountain to another unnamed mountain two miles to the north towards Lake Las Vegas. Saying their goodbyes the bicycle escorts from the Dykes headed back to their clubhouse leaving Preacher Joe, Lydia and Sandra standing by the side of Boulder Highway as the sun was beginning to sink in the west.

“We are on our own now ladies but at least this territory is relatively gang free. Out here, you only have to worry about the mentally ill and there are not many of them left. Most of those people have fallen by the wayside in life,” said Preacher.

Lydia and Sandra were eyeballing the massive wall in the distance.

“So Preacher, how do we get past that wall? I don’t see any tall ladders and what about those guards I see strolling on top?” asked Sandra.

“We are not going over the top of the wall Sandra. We are going to go under it.”

“We are going to go under it? What did you do, dig a tunnel?” asked Lydia.

“I didn’t but Clark County did at one time. Follow me. We need to head south to that strand of trees one hundred yards away so the guards won’t be able to visually track us. Then we will jump down in the concrete drainage culvert and stay low until we reach the drainage tunnel going under Boulder Highway. After that we have a long walk in the dark. Just stay close to me. Here are some flashlights with special lenses and a map for each of you so if you ever have to do this in the future without me you will be able to get out. You will see, with these flashlights, you don’t need the map.”

The Preacher helped the two women get down into the deep culvert. There was a small stream flowing in its bottom six inches wide and less than a half inch deep.

“We won’t have to worry about any water. It hasn’t rained in the last six months. Just stay low and close to the east wall so the guards won’t see us.”

The man and two women walked the one hundred yards in the culvert back to Boulder Highway where a wide black opening awaited them. Preacher walked into the man made cave thirty feet and then turned his flashlight on. He pointed at the east wall.

“Ta da!” he said with a laugh.

High up on the east wall was a green arrow.

“You can’t see the arrow without the flashlight and the arrow can’t be washed away by any flood water. I painted the arrows six years ago when I first discovered this tunnel. The only thing we have to worry about now is some wayward critters. Follow me and stay close. Here, I want each of you to carry a Glock but I don’t think we will find any trouble.”

He handed a pistol to each of the women and gave them a quick lesson on how to use the weapon.

For the next mile they followed the small stream and the green arrows making three turns in the dark tunnel. It was a large roomy tunnel and more than tall enough to walk comfortably. After one mile they came to a point where the drainage tunnel went in three directions. On each of the three walls was a green arrow.

“What now Preacher?” asked Sandra.

“Watch and learn. When you get to this point look to your right,” he said.

Aiming his flashlight at the east wall a stout metal door was displayed that was the size of a small garage door. On the right side of the metal door was a keyhole.

“That is the door of freedom ladies and here is the key.”

He took the crucifix he always wore off his neck. Lydia and Sandra could see that the bottom part of the crucifix was grooved in several places.

“Here are two duplicate keys mounted on a stout chain of brass that I made for each of you. They look like gold but they are actually made of brass. Don’t ever lose them.”

He handed the crucifixes to the women and then placed his large crucifix in his right hand. He then inserted it into the door’s keyhole. Turning it to the right there was a click and the heavy door swung open. On the other side of the heavy metal door was a clean wide tunnel that was lined with tile. What struck the women was the passageway was very clean, something that was uncommon in Sin City. There was usually inches of dust to contend with on many of the abandoned streets of Sin City prison. There was a constant, nasty battle with dust in the prison. The two women followed him inside and the Preacher closed the door. The door clicked shut.

“That sounded like the locks in Mags’ basement!” exclaimed Lydia.

“You are correct,” answered the Preacher as he hit a light switch. Instantly the tunnel was illuminated with fluorescent lighting as far as the ladies could see.

“This is nice Preacher, real nice! Why is this tunnel here?” asked Sandra.

“It was built when the big wall was built. According to the specs I have, this tunnel is also sealed at the other end with a large door to a drainage culvert so it never floods.”

“What specs Preacher?” asked Lydia.

“I got lucky one time,” he answered with a laugh.

“You seem to get lucky a lot Joe,” said Lydia.

“I am blessed by God Lydia. Follow me. We have a two mile walk ahead of us.”

After an hour walk the group came to another metal door. Preacher used his key once again and opened the door. He and the women stepped out into the Nevada dark of night.  There was a bright full moon this night that hung low over the valley. Lydia felt like she could reach up and touch the moon because it was so bright and seemed so low tonight. They had exited in another square concrete drainage area that opened to the rock floor of the desert. The prison wall was one mile away.

“No one can see us now. The patrols on the two lane road on the top of the wall are not as heavy as during the day. At night the guards rely more on sensors than eyesight. We need to make our way along this natural culvert for three hundred yards to a prison patrol road. I will leave you ladies there for ten or fifteen minutes. There is a prison base nearby that houses the guards who are pulling duty in this section of the wall. There is a house nearby the base where someone I trust lives. I need to go pick up some wheels to get to Phoenix. We are just about home free. Don’t worry, I will be right back.”

“Preacher, you certainly seem like you have done this before,” said Lydia giving him a hug. Sandra, not to be outdone, did the same.

They walked along the deep culvert for three hundred yards carefully avoiding the loose rocks not wanting to sprain any ankles and watching out for ever present rattlesnakes. Finally they arrived at a shady area near another large drainage pipe.

“The prison road is right up there crossing that pipe. Wait here for fifteen minutes, catch your breath and I will be right back with our ride to Phoenix. We still have to get past one more check point but that should be no problem. I will be right back.”

The Preacher climbed the steep rock bank and then disappeared, heading back in the direction of the Sin City prison wall. The ladies froze were they were.

“He certainly seems to know what he is doing. I am scared shitless,” said Sandra.

“Me too! If we hear any gunfire I guess we are supposed to haul ass back into Sin City prison,” answered Lydia waving her key.

Just as the Preacher stated the women heard a vehicle approaching on the roadway fifteen minutes later. Their jaws dropped open as they saw a large black stretch limousine stop on the roadway directly above the drainage pipe. At first, they felt like running.

Preacher opened the rear door of the limousine and stood on the bank at first looking at his friends, then he slowly navigated down the steep bank.

“Relax ladies. That is just one of the perks of being a man of God. Be careful going up that steep bank. I will be right behind you to catch you if you fall. When we get to the top just hop in the back with me. Let’s move it.”

The two women did as the Preacher requested. Once on the roadway they quickly climbed into the back seat and the Preacher followed as if in no hurry, closing the rear door. The women were frantically looking out the rear tinted window at the large military base and the wall. Near the military base they saw a large residential house that was well lighted.

“Is that house your friend’s house?” asked Lydia nervously.

“It is but he is not my friend Lydia. That house belongs to my uncle. He is also my driver. Say hello to Lydia and Sandra, Uncle Dan.”

The driver turned to face the two women. When Lydia and Sandra saw who he was they emitted a gasp.

“Aren’t you the leader of the Reformers?” exclaimed Sandra.

“I am when I have the time. It is a pleasure to meet you two ladies. My nephew has spoken highly about the both of you. There is food in the right compartments and ice along with a variety of drinks in the left refrigerated compartments. You may fasten your seat belts if you wish but I drive very carefully.”

Sandra and Lydia were to put it mildly, stunned.

“Preacher, I am confused,” said Lydia.

“We have a checkpoint coming up in less than a minute. Just sit back in your seat and relax, don’t do anything crazy. Then we will be on our way and I will explain everything later.”

As he completed his statement the heavily tinted electric glass window rolled up separating the driver from his passengers. Preacher’s uncle left the intercom on so his passengers could hear what was to be said.

Uncle Dan slowed the black stretch limousine down at the checkpoint that was located several miles from the eastern wall of Sin City prison out in the middle of the Mojave Desert. It was a typical hot desert night with a full moon and the air was warm. The guard shack was well lit and air conditioned with a heavy duty steel gate spanning the width of the two lane asphalt road. It was impossible to avert the gate because of large concrete barrier walls built on each side of the two lane road that dove into deep desert ravines running alongside the lonely highway. There were only four guards on duty tonight which was normal for duty call at this lonely post. The check point was out in the desert where no vehicle traversed unless it was for official government means.

“Mister Pendarvis! How are you today? I haven’t seen you or the warden for almost a year! Are we taking a drive today to nowhere?” asked the guard.

There were three other heavily armed guards standing at the guard shack at attention but they were not doing much guarding. They were watching a DVD movie on a large monitor inside the guard shack more than eyeballing the black limousine. Every now and then one of the three guards would glance in the direction of the large vehicle for a brief moment, but then turn his attention back on the video monitor.

“Yes we are George! And just because we haven’t seen each other in a while is no reason to go formal on me is it? You can call me Danny like you always have these past five years. Not much has been happening in Sin City prison the past year, the same old same old, inmates killing off each other right and left.  Warden Joe has a mandatory meeting in Phoenix with the three nation’s leaders that he has to attend tomorrow. I think they are going to give him a commendation and maybe a raise for making things run smoothly in the prison. You know how leaders are when it comes to giving reports on Sin City prison to their constituents. They want the reports live instead of by fax it seems now days. I think most of the leaders want to introduce Warden Joe to some of their supporters at all the cocktail parties in Phoenix tomorrow night. Warden Joe knows how to rub elbows with the powers in charge. This trip is just a waste of precious gasoline and his valuable time but everyone has to play by the rules, even him.”

“You can say that again Danny! With the price of gas at a hundred bucks a gallon that is one costly trip to Phoenix, especially for this big car. I wish I had some extra fuel for my desert buggy during the weekend when I am off!”

“Well hell, George, you know where I live. Come by later this week and knock on the door. Visit me for awhile! I have a ten gallon can and a siphon hose. The government won’t miss ten gallons of petrol out of the hundred gallon tank on this wagon. That should give you plenty of fuel to tear up the desert for a few hours.”

“For real? I wouldn’t get in trouble for that would I? That is a thousand bucks of gas!”

“Warden Joe wouldn’t mind. You have been a good guard watching the eastern flank of Sin City prison for the past five years and you are one of our friends. We get an allotment of two hundred gallons of gasoline for this vehicle every month and we never use it. It is time we started to use what we are allowed. Hell, the Texas nation has plenty of gasoline, the stingy bastards. Bring a couple of extra cans because after this trip I don’t think we will be going anywhere for another year or so, just like the past year.”

“I really appreciate that Danny. Every one of my guard friends speak of how devoted Warden Joe is to his duties when it comes to running the big prison. We hardly ever see him or this car. I reckon running that prison takes up a lot of his time but I must say, this is the smoothest running operation I have ever been a part of. Be careful Mister Pendarvis. That is a long lonely drive and we certainly don’t want anything to happen to our warden! We have been receiving reports of Free America scouts on the prowl all over this state so keep your sensors on and your eyes open.”

“I certainly will George. You know those damn scouts would love to get their hands on the warden of Sin City prison. I heard what happened to the warden of FEMA Camp 43 and what I heard was not pleasant. Nobody really knows which side the Nevada Free America outfit is on. I think they might be in it for themselves!”

“You are right about that. Those Free American terrorists don’t mess around when it comes to people wearing a government ID card. I think it doesn’t matter if you are wearing a Texas national ID card or not because I have heard they don’t like any identification scenarios. Hell if I know how they keep track of each other.  Have a safe trip…Danny.”

Then the guard waved the limousine through.

Sandra and Lydia were looking at Preacher Joe hard. Both women could not believe what they had just heard.

“Joe! It what we just heard true? You are the warden of Sin City prison?” exclaimed Sandra.

Joe flashed a big grin at the two women.

“Yes, that is true. I have been the warden ever since the place appointed a warden. Sin City had been in operation for almost two years when the prison committee system was abandoned and I was appointed warden. Good lord, Uncle Danny will talk his head off when he gets the chance. I can’t blame him though. He sits in that big house alone for most of the time because of what I do inside the prison.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were the warden?” asked Sandra.

“You never asked me.”

“Oh my God! I can’t believe it! Preacher Joe is the warden of Sin City! Are we in trouble?” asked Lydia.

Joe laughed.

“No. Neither of you are in trouble. In fact, I would be the one in trouble if anyone knew who I was. That won’t happen, at least in the near future. I trust you ladies with my life.”

“Just who are you Joe? What in the hell are you up to?” asked Sandra.

“You two ladies know who I am. I am Joe, just one of your many friends in Sin City prison and now I, along with many other people, will be in need of your help. You will still have the option of returning to Sin City prison or going out into this crazy world on your own once the need is fulfilled. I will give you my word that the choice is yours. After all, I gave you your keys to freedom and I certainly don’t intend to follow you around in Sin City. I am hoping you will be a part of a much higher calling.”

“You are speaking in riddles Preacher! What in the hell do you want us to do, become nuns? I don’t follow what you are saying!” exclaimed Lydia.

Joe laughed again.

“You two ladies have always given me your trust and I have always trusted you since we met. Trust me now. Give me another half hour and things will be much clearer to the both of you, hopefully. I will also tell you that you will be more confused in one hour than you are now, but I think you will see that your purpose in life will be…more demanding and for sure, more meaningful than going around killing slime balls for the rest of your life.”

The intercom in the limousine came to life.

“Good grief, nephew. You are as still hard headed as when you were a kid. Tell them more than that at least for now. Hell, you are confusing me and I know what is going on. If you don’t tell the ladies more I will have your Uncle Zak give you a good talking to when we met him tonight,” said Uncle Dan.

“Who is Uncle Zak?” asked Lydia.

Joe was now grinning broadly.

“I love my Uncle Zak but sometimes he can get you rattled. In fact, he just about gets everyone pissed off at one time or another in his life but he is a good man, one of the finest men you will ever run across in your life and he will become one of the best friends in your life. You can always count on Uncle Zak even though his methods are sometimes unorthodox. If you want to really piss him off in an argument call him Citizen Zak. That will get a reaction out of him.”

Uncle Dan laughed.

“I remember you doing that when you were twelve and getting your butt spanked that day. You were a little smartass when you were young and you still show flashes of to this day,” said the voice over the intercom.

Joe laughed.

“Yeah, I remember that day well. Uncle Zak..,” he said softly.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Who is this Uncle Zak?” asked Sandra.

“Why don’t we have a drink for right now and relax?  Why don’t we all have an ice cold cup of Pepsi to chase down a shot of Jack Daniels? While we drink I will tell you more about my life and about my Uncle Zak.”

“You have booze in this limo? Isn’t that against federal law? Isn’t it against the law everywhere to have booze anywhere in the United States?” asked Sandra.

“Those laws don’t apply to me or to Free America. I live free, drink freely and you will too in the future.”

Joe made three cups of ice cold Pepsi and produced a fifth of Jack Daniels from one of the limo’s compartments. The bottle of liquor was an actual fifth from the past. He poured three shot glasses and handed one each to Lydia and Sandra.

“Uh, have you two ever tried a shot of Jack Daniels whiskey?” he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

Both women shook their heads no…slowly.

“I have never seen a bottle of whiskey in my entire life,” answered Lydia.

“Well! In that case I guess the best advice I can give you is to gulp it down quickly, swallow hard and hang on. That is the way most new scouts do it.”

Then he tilted his head back slightly and drained the shot glass. The two women did the same. Joe watched as the two ladies eyes grew wide.

“Now quick! Drink the Pepsi! Big gulps, big gulps!”

Lydia and Sandra quickly drank their ice cold Pepsi.

The tinted window separating the driver’s compartment rolled down.

“Hey! Is this a private party? Is there a rule in Nevada about drivers not getting a shot of whiskey?” asked Uncle Dan.

“I’m sorry Uncle Dan. But don’t forget you are driving.”

“Forget that boy! Booze has been banned since twenty fifteen, so there are no DUI laws anymore. You should know me by now! I like to party with friends!”

Joe poured his uncle a shot and passed the small glass forward. Uncle Dan slammed the drink without using any chaser.

“Uncle Dan is from the old breed of people of what I call hippie rednecks. He still gripes at me about having to get a haircut to be my driver and that first happened five years ago. At least he has been keeping his hair short the last five years without giving me a big fight. He would drink that entire bottle tonight and still drive as straight as an arrow if he was allowed to do so.”

Lydia and Sandra had finally regained the ability to speak.

“Good Lord! I have never tasted anything like that!” said Lydia.

“It sure made my mouth tingle! It tasted sort of …sweet. I heard you say something like that was the way most new scouts do it. What did you mean by that?” asked Sandra.

“Oops!” said Uncle Dan over the intercom in the limousine.

Joe got a serious look on his face as he poured another round.

“This is the last shot…for tonight girls. I don’t want either of you to get wasted tonight before our get together. Jack Daniels is some wicked stuff. What I said about scouts was true.”

“So…what was that about? Scouts?” asked Lydia taking her shot glass of Jack Daniels from Joe.

At first Joe thought about diverting Lydia’s question but he knew now that he had been busted.

“Have either of you ladies heard about Free America or the Free America movement in your lives?”

Lydia and Sandra looked at each other with puzzled looks on their faces. Both women were trying to figure out what Free America had to do with this limousine ride.

“I have heard a lot about Free America. They were the terrorists who started the civil war in America five or six years ago. Free America has killed a lot of people and I hear that in the east in some of the big cities, a lot of the terrorists have been killed,” said Sandra.

“I only know a little about them. I had my hands full right out of high school with a husband who was beating me everyday. He even controlled the computer and television set in the house. You two know for the last year I have been busy helping my gang,” answered Lydia.

“It makes sense that you would know something Sandra. You are the same age as me. At one time in my life I was a Free America scout for my Uncle Zak. He is the one who got the Free America movement underway in Nevada. The Free America movement has many factions in the continental United States but the Free America movement in Nevada stands alone.  My uncle’s methodology is very different from the other Free America underground organizations in the United States. For so few people, his outfit is proving to be the most successful, most deadly and most effective. He has run across some special people in his life. The three new nations claim they are free, but they aren’t that free yet and they are starting to act just like the government they are fighting. The federal government still has numerous military bases in the country and many of those bases are in the three nation’s territories along with a lot of FEMA camps that are still in operation. The only reason Texas is relatively free is because of two scouts from the Free America movement in Nevada named the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo and because of what they have done in the past. The nations called Freedom and Constitution still have serious problems with the federal government mostly because they haven’t had any visits from the Nevada Free America scouts. Nevada scouts, at least some of them, know how to fight dirty, real dirty. The war is still ongoing in those areas in the east and the southeast but the people who are free are holding their own considering all the foreign governments who are interfering in the States. The northeast is where the government is still strong. Those people in the northeast are the one’s who are in trouble. Nevada, even though it is not a nation, has been cooking on high on the front burner since the war started.”

“You were a terrorist at one time?” asked Sandra.

“I was never a terrorist. I was a scout, fighting for freedom in Nevada. Because I am a college graduate Zak pulled some strings with some of his old friends in the new nations to get me appointed warden of Sin City prison. Texas owed the Free America organization in Nevada big time as well as Freedom, the central plains states. Uncle Zak has a master plan. That plan called for me to give up my freedom as a scout and to go to Sin City playing the role of the warden. At first, I thought it was crazy plan. It was a difficult decision for me, giving up the freedom of roaming the Sierra and Ruby Mountains on a horse, seeing the open skies every day and night and basically doing what I wanted to do. But going to Sin City prison gave me the opportunity to take care of Mags and Uncle Robert.  It also allowed for me to develop Uncle Zak’s plan. Looking back on the last five years, after meeting wonderful and inspiring people like you two, Mags, members of the Dykes, the children and many others, I now realize it was the right thing to do. I know now that Uncle Zak was right. Now the plan is starting to come to a conclusion, to take some shape. Uncle Zak is known for his crazy plans and they have worked well for Nevada. Free America across the continent has benefited from what has happened here in Nevada.”

“So Zak was the one who planned the FEMA Camp 43 raid?” asked Sandra.

“No. That was a good scout friend of mine known as the Reaper. His name is Francis and if you ever have to chance to meet him in person you two will like him but he now has a mate for life. He and I went through scout training at the same time for almost a year. The Homeland Security goons killed his father in an isolated incident and luckily, the Pale Rider and her companion at the time were at his father’s farm. His is a long story but a good one. That action on FEMA Camp 43 nearly killed him. Besides being a brave man, he is a lucky man, much like me I guess.”

“I heard in Sin City prison he took out that FEMA camp with three female scouts. That was the largest FEMA camp in the country and it only took four scouts. Three of them were women. That is an amazing story,” said Sandra.

“That story is partially true. Francis had spent two years laying the groundwork for taking out FEMA Camp 43 along with his mule, horse and his three dogs. Francis is one of the most determined and focused men you will ever meet. Then he got lucky or maybe it was God who sent him the three female scouts into his life to help him out. He and the three female scout friends, along with some horses and his dogs, started the fight. Those three female scout friends are three of the best scouts Free America has ever produced. I know two of them well, Calamity Jane and the Black Widow. They had a big part in training me, the Reaper and the Pale Rider. They also helped train the scout known as the Night Ranger and now she and Francis ride together. The man known as the Liberator also was partly trained by Janie and Emily. When the attack commenced on FEMA Camp 43, the Liberator along with his scout army showed up in the nick of time, plus the two million inmates in FEMA Camp 43 joined the fight. Scott, the Liberator, would do anything to help out Calamity Jane and the Black Widow. He is crazy about those two wild women and they are crazy about him. That is what happens when you become a scout for Free America. It will bring out the best and the worst in your soul but you will have trusted and great friends for the rest of your life. It is a necessary balance to gain freedom I guess.”

Lydia and Sandra had finished their second shots of Jack Daniels and had made it a point to provide Uncle Dan with another round. Uncle Dan had been listening to his nephew the entire time.

“We just went past the eastern boundary of the Lake Mead Recreational Area monument. The turnoff is up ahead on our left. The desert road gets pretty rough in some spots so watch your drinks. I will be going to night vision lights and goggles in five minutes. I am just letting everyone know,” said Uncle Dan.

“I thought we were going to Phoenix to get critical meds?” said Sandra.

“This limo is going to Phoenix tonight. The critical meds have already been taken care of. In ten minutes or so, you and Lydia will have to decide if you want to go to Phoenix with me tonight or change your lives…forever. It will be a decision you will remember the rest of your lives, no matter how you decide.”

Uncle Dan turned off Highway Ninety Three to his left and the limo moved down a one lane hard pan desert roadway. Uncle Dan turned off his headlights and activated his night vision goggles.

Lydia looked out of the front windshield and all she could see was black. Uncle Dan was moving through the night at forty miles an hour. Surprisingly, the ride was not that rough.

“How can you see to drive?” asked Lydia with alarm in her voice.

“There is plenty of light to travel, young lady. Here, put these on if you are going to backseat drive,” answered Uncle Dan, who was wearing a pair of night vision goggles.

He held up a pair of goggles over his right shoulder. Lydia took the goggles from his right hand and fitted the helmet on her head.

“I can’t see a thing!” she exclaimed.

“Here, let me help you,” said Preacher Joe moving to sit beside her in the limo.

He flipped a small slide switch on the right side of the helmet.

Lydia gasped. In front of her the one lane desert road was illuminated brightly for as far as she could see. The lighting at night was much more effective than any pair of headlights.

“What?” asked Sandra.

“I can see hundreds of yards in front of us Sandra! It is as bright as day outside!”

Joe laughed.

“What did you do Uncle Dan? Did you install more of those fancy headlights in the grill of the limo?”

“That is what I did. This limo would be perfect for doing some serious poaching if that is what we wanted to do. I installed four of the strongest lights the government could find. You know, for Homeland Security reasons. The headlights came four months ago when you told me we were going to make this trip. It isn’t often we get the opportunity to have a family reunion and I wanted to make sure that we could see well enough to find our way and not by seen by any prying eyes out in the desert mountains.”

The limo continued to follow the narrow, straight road for twenty more minutes, while Lydia and Sandra took turns using the night vision goggles. For a brief few minutes, they were young girls again in their lives, laughing often at how bright it was on a dark night.

After twenty minutes the road started to climb steeply into the mountains of northern Arizona. After five minutes of travel Lydia spoke, loudly.

“I see a campfire, some tents and…some horses! I also see people and…some dogs! I see some really big dogs!”

“We are about there nephew,” said Uncle Dan.

“What is going on Joe?” asked Sandra.

“We are going to stop for long overdue visit with some of my family and friends. That is why I brought you two here, to meet some people who are dear to me and for them to meet you two. And, oh yeah, for you two to meet some of the most wanted terrorists in American history,” he said with a laugh.

The black limo eased to a stop resting fifty feet away from the campfire. Immediately four large dogs appeared out of the dark and sat down fifteen feet away from the driver’s door. Pacing in front of the four large dogs, which were all German Shepherds, were two smaller dogs. The two smaller dogs, Jack Russell terriers, were nervously trotting back and forth in front of the big dogs barely avoiding colliding head on with each other. It looked to Lydia the two small dogs had practiced their routine before. Each dog, before colliding head on, would pass each other at the last second, swerving to the right.

There were numerous people, both male and female, sitting around a healthy campfire. Some were eating, some were smoking cigarettes and some looked like they were using notebook computers. None of them seemed too concerned about the arrival of the large black stretch limousine. All of them glanced over at the black limousine on occasion but none arose from their wooden chairs. The only entities paying attention to the vehicle’s arrival were the six dogs. The mutts seemed anxious to meet who was in the car.

“Looks like everyone showed up to meet Sandra and Lydia. I am not surprised. Your grandfather even showed up. I should have known that. I sent him a message telling him Lydia and Sandra were real lookers,” said Uncle Dan with a laugh.

Then Uncle Dan jumped out of the limousine and headed for the campfire.

Lydia watched as a long haired older man and a pretty brunette female arose from the camping chairs and headed for the car.

“Who are these people Joe?” asked Lydia, looking out of the tinted window while getting her gear together.

“I know them all. The big old fellow heading this way is my Uncle Zak. The brunette I don’t know that well. Her name is Lynn. She is the Reaper’s woman. I heard she gave birth to two twin boys six weeks ago. I am surprised she is already back in the saddle. Come on ladies. I will introduce you to everyone. This is going to be a fun night. I will spend a few hours here before I head on to Phoenix.”

“What about the meds Joe?” asked Lydia.

“Relax girl! Do you see that strange looking one wheeled cart standing up magically behind the campfire that is stacked six foot high with cardboard boxes? That is our medical supplies for the kids. We didn’t really have to go to Phoenix to get the vaccines. Those supplies have been provided by Fort Shultz and Free America. The Dykes will have more medical supplies than they can handle.”

“So why did we come?” asked Sandra.

“You will find out tonight but relax and have some fun, make some friends. These people are really glad that you two are here tonight. Come on, let’s mingle,” he said as he opened the limo door.

Joe and the two ladies stepped out to stand beside the black car.

As the elderly man with the long tangled mess of hair and young brunette got close the young woman spoke. Lydia and Sandra both were amazed at how gorgeous the brunette was. She could have been a model in a normal world.

“Jungen…sitzen!” she commanded firmly.

The two little hyper active dogs immediately sat down in front of the German Shepherds…waiting.

“Danny! You are sight for sore eyes!” exclaimed the elderly, rough looking man.

“Zachory! So are you but you look tired! Are you okay?”

Both men hugged each other for a brief moment, patting each other on the back.

“I am a little tired. It’s a long ride from the Secondary Base and I am not as young as I used to be. These young ones are trying their best to kill me and the old man. How are you doing nephew?”

“I am doing okay Uncle Zak. It looks like you have a lost some weight since the last time I saw you.”

“Hell yeah, I have lost a little weight since then. That was what, four or five years ago? Who are your friends?”

“This young lady is Lydia and this one is Sandra. They are two good friends of mine that I have had the pleasure of getting to know in Sin City prison.”

Suddenly, the small group was joined by another member.

“Holy crap! Someone arrest me and throw me in Sin City prison! Do all the female inmates look like these girls! And I was worried about you meeting any women grandson!”

Old Doc ambled over to Joe and gave him a hug.

“Lydia, Sandra this is my grandfather. Everyone calls him Doc. He is a real doctor even though he doesn’t act like one most of the time.”

“When you get as old as me you don’t have to worry about what people think about how you act. It is nice to meet you ladies. Do we have to worry about federal transmitters with these two?”

“No gramps. Inmates in Sin City prison aren’t fitted with transmitters. There is no need.”

“Hmmpff! I should have figured that out. Come on over to the campfire girls and get to know everyone. We have coffee, food and booze. Most importantly we have security. The pack is in charge of that tonight.”

Lydia and Sandra were eyeing the pretty brunette intently and the Night Ranger was eyeing them back. They saw that she was carrying four big pistols in two holsters draped across her supple body. The brunette stepped forward offering her hand.

“You will learn to ignore some of the boys in Free America ladies. You will find that the older they get they start regressing to their teenage years. I am Lynn, Lynn Beasley.”

Lydia and Sandra shook her hand. Sandra was really looking at Lynn.

“Excuse me for gawking, but your face looks familiar. I think I saw a photo of you at one of our captain’s meeting. I remember that face because the photo was of a pretty woman and I thought at the time that she couldn’t possibly be a terrorist. Aren’t you the terrorist known as the…Night Ranger?” she asked tentatively.

Lynn laughed displaying a gorgeous smile.

“I am not a terrorist unless you work for the federal government. But to answer your question the scouts call me the Night Ranger. My husband is known as the Reaper.”

“Oh my God! I was hoping to meet you one day in my life but I thought that would never happen! Are these the dogs that helped you free Fort Shultz?” asked Sandra.

Zak was watching Lynn closely. Hardly anyone in Free America had discussed the day when Lynn lost Schultz and almost lost Francis.

Lynn handled the question like a scout.

“Two of them were there that day The black one on the right and the big brown one sitting next to him. The two German Shepherds on the left are new additions to the family and they are good boys. Come with us to the campfire and get to know everyone. And ignore that old man once he gets going with Jack Daniels. If he gets out of line I will have one of my four legged friends bring him back down to Earth,” she said with a laugh.

As the Night Ranger turned to the campfire she uttered a command.

“Jungen…schaffner!”

The six dogs disappeared into the dark.

“What did you just instruct them to do?” asked Lydia.

“I said, boys, guard. The dogs are now prowling around on a large perimeter making sure we are safe for tonight,” answered Lynn.

“They seem to be well trained,” added Lydia.

“They are. My dogs mind a lot better than the male scouts in this outfit. The dogs are my babies out in the field. I have two real babies back at the base being cared for by my Mom and Dad for now while I fight in this war.”

As the three women left to join the scouts sitting around the campfire Zak turned to Joe.

“Which one is the one known as the White Widow?” he said quietly while watching the women leave.

“She is the blonde that is shorter and carrying the pneumatic bow on her back. She always has the weapon near her hands. She is a natural born killer when it comes to dealing with bad people and she shows no remorse for her actions. Sandra has told me the White Widow’s husband used to beat her in her teenage years and finally tried to kill her but she managed to get to a gun and kill him first. That is why she was sent to Sin City prison. She probably shouldn’t be there but you know how crazy Texas justice has become since they became a nation.”

“I like her already. Why was the tall one sent to Sin City?”

“She got multiple life sentence from the federal government for killing three Homeland Security agents and two FEMA Camp agents who came in the middle of the night to get her mentally retarded brother. She surrendered her gun once the surviving Homeland Security swat team managed to get their hands on her mentally retarded brother and held a gun to his head threatening to kill him if she didn’t lay down her weapon. Once she put her gun on the floor, the assholes killed her younger brother right in front of her. She managed to get to the gun again and did her thing, killing three more local deputy sheriffs before they corralled her. She won’t make that mistake again, surrendering your weapon. She has a lot of pent up anger in her but I have only seen glimpses of it. She is usually a cool customer if you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean. That lady should get along well with the Pale Rider and the Night Ranger tonight. Let’s see what develops.”

“Are you still going to offer them a chance to ride Uncle Zak?”

“I may offer them that, nephew! We will have to see where their heads are tonight! Geez, I don’t know! The decision will be up to them because I instinctively like them both. They both seem to carry themselves well.”

Then the old man with the weathered face ambled up to the campfire. Uncle Dan was standing next to Joe and had not said a word. Finally he spoke.

“It is hard to believe that two gorgeous women like that have been sent for the rest of the lives to waste away in Sin City prison. Did you see the weapon on the White Widow’s back? It sure is a crude weapon but it certainly must be an effective one. I have been reading your weekly reports. She has killed hundreds of men with that pneumatic bow. What do you think she could accomplish with a Big X assault rifle?”

“I know. She has certainly learned how to use that bow. It is the other one that impresses me however. When it came to family, she turned into a killer. She kind of reminds me of Amanda,” answered Joe.

“Those two women have a lifetime of tough experiences in Sin City prison dealing with bad people. If they take my brother up on his offer, his crazy plan for the prison just might work,” said Uncle Dan.

“It just might. The only thing that bothers me is the survival percentage. Even if everything goes according to plan, some people are going to make a great sacrifice. I have grown fond of both of those girls,” answered Joe.

“Let’s go join the party.”

* * * * *

Chapter Five

Getting Acquainted

Three hours had passed since the stretch limousine’s arrival at the rendezvous with the scout party from Free America in the farthest northwest corner of Arizona. There had been much eating, good coffee, much laughter and a little drinking. The first thing Joe did after the proper introductions were made with everyone was unload ten eight pound bags of ice from the trunk of the limousine for the immediate party and the scouts in the mountains. Ice was a luxury out in the wild. Lydia and Sandra had looked up into the mountains to see several distant campfires of more Free America scouts hunkered down for the night. The two new arrivals were amazed to find out that these freedom fighters out in the middle of nowhere were well connected with portable communication devices, primarily notebook computers that used satellite uplinks. Soon, the word was spread that Joe had brought bags of ice and some booze. It wasn’t long before several scouts showed up to get a bag of ice and a bottle of booze to take back to his or her campsite. Lydia and Sandra were introduced to each and the Free America scouts treated the two ladies like old friends even though if was the first time everyone met.

Joe was getting a little fidgety after three hours. He still had to make a long trip to Phoenix in the dark along with his Uncle Dan. He stood up and stretched at where he was sitting at the campfire. Zak could tell his nephew was getting anxious to get back on the road. Joe was just about to suggest that it was time for him to be moving on when Sandra spoke.

“I have been looking at the horses that are tied up nearby. That big white one closest to the campfire looks familiar to me.”

Everyone sitting at the campfire turned to look at Amanda, who was snuggled up, as usual, to Little Jimbo.

“That is my horse. If he had his saddle on his back I would let you sit on him but without a saddle I would be worried about you falling off. He is a big horse and falling off is a long way to the hard desert ground.”

“He sure is a magnificent looking animal. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since I have been sitting here.  How long have you been riding him and what is his name?” asked Sandra.

“Oh, I have been riding him now for going on four years all over the west, mostly in Texas, the plains states and Nevada. He has been a great horse. At one time he was owned by the Hussein guard but Free America…freed him. I fell in love with him the minute I saw him so Zak gave him to me that day. His name is Spooky.”

Old Doc had made it a point to sit next to Sandra and Lydia. He was having the time of his life with the inmates from Sin City prison. He reached into his vest pocket and produced a folded piece of paper and handed it to Sandra.

Sandra unfolded the paper, looked at it and then her eyes widened.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed.

“What is it Sandra?” asked Lydia.

“It is a wanted poster issued by Homeland Security and the federal government. There is a picture of Spooky with a twenty five million government credit reward for him dead or alive!”

“That is a lot of money for horse in this territory! Why would the federal  government want a horse dead or alive?” exclaimed Lydia.

“Silly! That is the horse the Pale Rider…rides! You are the Pale Rider!” exclaimed Sandra while looking at Amada.

“That is my handle. The man I have been sitting beside is Little Jimbo. The man over there dressed in black is the Reaper, the woman sitting next to him is the Night Ranger and the redheaded woman is Calamity Jane. The blonde woman next to her is the Black Widow. That poster is an old one. There is three or four hundred million government credits sitting around this campfire tonight I reckon. The tall fellow standing beside the horses is Ringo, Zak’s right hand man. If the government knew more about Ringo he would have a bigger reward on his head than anyone. He was the one who blew up FEMA Camp 37 the first time and had a lot to do with the second time. How much is on your head now days Janie?”

“The last time me and Em were in a federal post office was a couple of months ago. We saw all the posters, including the one on Spooky. The government has a picture of everyone except Amanda. Since me and Em were involved in the FEMA Camp 43 the reward on our heads jumped from one million to one hundred million. We are lightweights in the reward money compared to Francis, Lynn, Little Jimbo and Spooky.”

Her comment cause the scouts to laugh. Lydia and Sandra could tell at that moment that federal government credits meant nothing to the scouts.

“I was telling Joe not long ago that I wish I would get the chance to meet the both of you in my life! I can’t believe I have met you people! Joe, did you know that these scouts would be here?” asked Sandra.

“He damn well knew. Ringo, bring those two horses over here!” yelled Zak.

Ringo led two black stallions to stand in the light of the campfire. The German Shepherds and terriers returned from the dark.  The dogs were prancing around Ringo as if they were excited. The animals were thinking it was time to ride.

Zak arose from his wooden stool and moved to stand in front of Lydia and Sandra. He tipped his beaten, weathered hat back on his head and placed his hands on his hips.

“How would you two like to learn how to ride a horse, learn how to shoot a gun, learn how to pitch a tent, build a campfire, make some good coffee out in the desert and learn how to do all the things a scout must learn to do?”

The only thing that could be heard around the campfire was the crackle the burning wood generated after Zak posed his question.

At first Lydia and Sandra were confused and didn’t know what to say. They both desperately looked at Joe, who calmly nodded his head yes, not saying a word.

“I don’t understand! We are prisoners for life in Sin City prison! We can never be free!” exclaimed Lydia.

“You are free now ladies. This is Nevada. Those are my horses, my guns, my gear and my nephew, the warden of Sin City prison. I am giving the horses and your freedom to you both. It is a new lease on life because you both have earned it. You can hop on the horses and ride out of here, no strings attached right now in the night if that is what you want to do or you can join Free America, work hard and learn how to live in these hard times. Along the way I hope you will decide to help us fight for our freedom. Frankly, I have self serving reasons for this. I will need your expertise one of these days in the near future to solve the Sin City problem,” said Zak.

This was news to everyone around the campfire except for Joe. No one considered Sin City a problem because all the problems were located on the other side of the big wall.

Sin City prison had been built after considering long term studies that had been conducted on a problem prison built in California named Pelican Bay. For many years Pelican Bay had been the home of violent race riots, killings, stabbings and beatings despite great efforts made by the people in charge to design a plan to put a stop to the violence. Nothing the authorities implemented worked. During this time many good people who were just doing their job had been killed and severely injured. The three new nations had come to the conclusion that the solution to the problem was to go in the opposite direction. Contain the violent inmates and turn them loose to kill each other instead of innocent citizens trying to live their lives. The grand experiment was working. The crime rates in the three new nations had plummeted. There was still crime but the violent offenders were quickly carted off the Sin City prison, never to be heard from again. There was no longer any incarceration for any extended period of time waiting on appeals. If you were convicted of a violent crime, you did the violent time.

“What problem is that Zak?” asked Francis with his gravel coated voice while blowing a perfect ring of smoke.

Francis was smoking one of his trademark thin cigars staring intently at the old man. His two German Shepherds were lying on the ground in front of him. Since his near death experience at FEMA Camp 43 Francis had changed. He was now more intense and more deadly than ever. His love for the Night Ranger was now stronger than ever. He had learned the hard way that life was short and to take advantage of the immediate blessings in his life. Lynn was sitting next to him with Shultz’s son, Tiger, lying on her lap. The Jack Russell terrier looked like he was asleep.

“Yeah, tell us, since when was Sin City a problem Zak? They are surrounded by a fifty foot wall and heavily guarded by Texas security goons. Those inmates never bother anyone except each other,” added the Pale Rider.

“Have you guys and gals ever thought about what is going to happen when one of these days we do run the federal government out of Nevada? The only reason the three nations keep sending the food is because I keep threatening them that we will turn the inmates loose on the Texas nation if they don’t live up to their end of the agreement. I couldn’t do anything about the three nations sending the inmates here but they know I could do something about setting them free after what has happened at FEMA Camp 37 and 43. The three nations know we are very good at that. We won’t be able to feed the two million people in the prison and if no one is guarding them the inmates will be breaking out of there one of these days. Most of the inmates in Sin City prison are not the type you would want living next door. I had a plan at one time but it is not acceptable now.”

Little Jimbo started to laugh. Francis shook his head. Both men knew the old man well and had figured out what his plan once was without the old man saying another word.

“What is so funny Jimbo?” asked Amanda.

“Nothing,” he replied and instantly quit laughing.

Lynn was looking at the Reaper intently but said nothing. She knew from his demeanor that he had figured out the old man’s plan but she said nothing. She knew Francis would say something because, when it counted, he always did.

The Night Ranger, the Pale Rider and the Reaper were the only three Free America scouts who now used the deadly poisons they were wanted for.

“You were going to have Lynn, Amanda and me kill them all from the top of the big wall when the wind was blowing in the right direction, weren’t you?”

Francis had a reputation for getting to the point. Lydia and Sandra looked at each other with alarm written all over their faces. They were finding it difficult to digest what they both had just heard. They both turned to look at Joe who was still standing by the campfire. Joe moved to sit between the two ladies.

“Let’s start from the beginning and please, let me do the talking Uncle Zak. I have to get going but this is important so everyone can understand. I came to Sin City prison five years for the purpose of feeding information to Free America about the layout of the prison and where the concentrations of prisoners would be residing. Zak was upset that the three nations had decided to dump their worst of the worst prisoners on Nevada and there was not much he or the residents of Nevada could do about it. So he, we, went along with the new nations. We couldn’t be fighting them and the federal government at the same time. Because Nevada had no real representative government the rest of the fighting states literally shit on us and they knew we couldn’t ask the federal government for help so they seized our largest city and turned it into a dump. No favors or compensation exchanged hands except the concession that Zak was the one who was given the authority to choose a warden to run the prison. That was when he called on me. That was also the reason why we started to develop the poison gas program at the secondary base with Ringo and Doc. None of us ever imagined how effective the Pale Rider, Lynn and Francis would become with the poison. Instead of becoming a way to eradicate a problem the poison became a weapon, an effective and deadly weapon out in the field.”

“So you, at one time, were going to kill everyone in Sin City prison?” asked Lydia.

“I am not going to lie to you. Yes, at one time, we were going to wipe out every inmate in Sin City prison once the war was over, especially if the three nations lost their struggle with the federal government. Five years ago, we didn’t know which way the war was going to go. Over the last five years, things got complicated. The Dykes developed into what it is today, something no one ever dreamed of. Plus, the children, the babies and the Reformers complicated any decisions. We realized that to do something like we originally planned on doing would make us no better than the people we are fighting. I started to report to Zak on the great things that were happening in Sin City prison, on the special people I had met. So I came up with a rough alternate plan to save the people worth saving in Sin City prison, keep the Dykes home intact if that is what they want and to get rid of the scum of the Earth that are loose with no restraints. That is why I selected you two for this trip. Tricia is aware of everything and agreed on this rough plan.”

“Tricia? You mean the head of our gang?” asked Sandra.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know you knew the old woman Tricia!”

“I don’t. Zak does. He was married to her forty years ago. She was his first wife.”

Now Sandra and Lydia were really surprised, as well as the scouts around the campfire.

“Is that true Zak?” asked Sandra.

“Unfortunately, it is true. It is a long story and for all the grief she had caused me in my life I can’t think of a better reason than to turn my scouts loose on Sin City prison, but Joe told me about your gang and I love kids. I can’t be killing innocent kids and their moms who have survived in such a God forsaken place as Sin City. The men who have said they have discovered Jesus I ain’t so sure of.”

“So what is this plan Joe?” asked Lynn.

“It is a simple plan. The rebuilding of FEMA Camp 37 is way behind schedule because the Teamsters are slowing down the construction after what they did to our Teamster friends five years ago. It is still a year away from being finished so time is on our side for now. Instead of blowing it up every three years and the government rebuilding it, this time Free America is gonna’ take it intact and keep it, like Francis, Lynn, Calamity Jane and the Black Widow did with FEMA Camp 43. We want to establish another Fort Schultz in Southern Nevada. On the same day or as soon as possible we are going to take out Nellis Air Force base once and for all. We are going to get their planes, all of them and their nuclear bombs. At the same time we are going to free Sin City prison. What I mean by that is the only residents in Sin City prison will be the Dykes and the people who live peacefully, like Mags. Doc, with the Reaper’s help, has developed a machine that can determine what a person’s soul is like, whether a person is worth saving or not. It will give us some benchmark of a person. The Reformers who have truly found Christ we will know, the ones that haven’t found Christ and are just going through the motions we haven’t figured out what to do with just yet. The rest of the vermin are going to meet their Maker, unless the three nations are willing to take them off our hands and our land. There will be no more dumping murderers, the insane and rapists on Nevada soil anymore. That shit is gonna’ stop.”

“Are you telling us that there will be three ongoing operations at the same time? We don’t have enough people to pull that off!” said Amanda.

“We will if we can get the Dykes to help. Scott, the Liberator, has over one hundred thousand scouts fighting in Northern California, Oregon and Washington. He is from Free America of Nevada and he will certainly help. There are one hundred thousand members in the Dykes! How many foot soldiers do you have Sandra?” asked Joe.

“We have twenty thousand plus that are trained fighters.  They go out on the streets of Sin City prison every day and manage to survive. They know how to kill.”

“There is your answer. I can vouch for them. Those are some tough women and they don’t use guns to survive. They use their heads and a creative weapon,” said Joe.

Everyone was quiet again. Finally Joe spoke.

“Well, I have to go. What do you two want to do? Go with me, go it alone in life or do you want to seize the opportunity to possibly secure and change the future for a thousand kids and for more kids in the future?”

“What about the meds?” asked Lydia.

Joe put his arm around his young female inmate and smiled at her.

“You are a good woman. Since I have met you, you always worried about others. Free America is not just horses, mules, dogs and scouts. Uncle Zak, how far away is the pickup?”

“Emily! Use that notebook computer and get Data on the line! He will know where the choppers are!” ordered Zak.

Emily was the fastest typist of all the scouts and she was known to always be working on her notebook computer around the campfire. She was one scout who knew that knowledge was a powerful weapon.

“I am watching the AH-1’s progress Zak. They are just scooting around the west side of Sin City prison on the other side of the Spring Mountain Range. They should be coming from that direction in five minutes,” she answered pointing into the night sky.

“You let the other scouts in this area know those are our boys from Fort Schultz didn’t you?”

“Data already sent many notices but I just did too.”

“Good. I don’t need any scout juiced up on Jack Daniels bringing down one of our choppers tonight.”

“Free America has helicopters?” asked Lydia.

Every scout nodded their heads yes.

“When we liberated FEMA Camp 43 we inherited fifty six helicopters from the government. Some were attack helicopters and some were utility helicopters. Since we seized the gold and silver mine north of Rochester we have had the money to buy more helicopters from friendly nations like Canada. We have the helicopters and the missiles to go with them. The helicopters have made this war a lot easier for Free America in Nevada and we found plenty of pilots who defected from the United States military to fly them. We have a lot of good chopper pilots, some of them old enough to be your daddy. There are three Cobras coming from Fort Schultz to grab those meds in ten minutes and drop them on top of the Fontainebleau Tower tonight,” said Zak.

“Won’t the Nellis Air Force base people send some planes to shoot them down? Won’t the guards on the top of the wall try to shoot down the helicopters?” asked Sandra.

“They might try to do that but I doubt it. Those choppers have stealth technology and are flying low to the ground. They will have to pop up to drop off the meds to Sin City so the Nellis radar will pick them up briefly on their screens. We have scouts with stinger missiles in the mountains on the west side of Sin City prison. We have a lot of scouts in those mountains near Nellis Air Force base tonight. The boys at Nellis know we are damn good at shooting down their helicopters and jet planes with our shoulder fired surface to air missiles. Once our choppers complete their mission they will disappear from the Nellis radar screens and at night, those government boys won’t want to venture out into the dark skies. My scouts own those skies at night. If Joe’s guards take some pot shots at any of my choppers there are two companion choppers equipped with some wicked machine guns that will take care of them. If they fire one weapon the computers on any one of the Cobra’s will react and target the place where the weapon was fired from. The 20 millimeter chain guns on those choppers will tear them to pieces. The meds, vaccinations and other supplies will be dropped off to the Dyke’s tonight. Joe has more important things to do now then lug supplies and so do you two ladies. Are you going to ride with me?” asked Zak.

Lydia instantly responded.

“Yes. I never imagined this but it is an opportunity I must seize. I want the chance to fight for freedom every day instead of fighting just to survive. If this will give the Dykes and the kids a chance to live free then I am willing to go that route.”

“I would like to do this too. I just have one question. Why just the two of us? We have several,…uh…ladies are who are just as qualified as me and Lydia,” said Sandra.

The scouting party couldn’t see them at first but they could hear the helicopters approaching from the west in the dark sky. Soon, every one could see their silhouettes in the full moon approaching their campfire location flying low to the ground. One minute later the area was lit up with spotlights from the Cobras.

Joe arose from where he was sitting between Lydia and Sandra. He walked over to his Uncle Zak and embraced him.

“See you later Uncle Zak and be careful.”

“You too, nephew. I will be in touch.”

Ringo and several scouts appeared out of the dark surroundings. Francis and Little Jimbo joined them and the scouts began to load the cardboard boxes off of Doc’s one wheeled cart, placing the supplies in a large, canvas net the primary Cobra had dropped on the desert floor. It was a large load of medical supplies. Doc had ordered far more medicine and far more varied medical supplies than what the Dykes wanted.

“Are you going with me old man or are you taking the long way home?” asked Zak, turning to Doc.

“I ain’t getting my old ass four feet off the ground! You know I don’t like heights. I will let you know who I will be riding with. Go and be careful!”

One minute later the three choppers lifted off and headed back in the direction they came from with Zak.

Every scout sat back down around the campfire except for Joe.

“I have to go my friends. I will remember this night. It has been a fun and a wonderful brief respite from the war. Maybe one day in the future we can all do this every weekend at one of our ranches.”

Lydia and Sandra both stood up and gave Joe long, hard hugs, holding him as tight as each could. They both could be seen whispering in his left ear but no one around the campfire could hear what the two women had said.

“Don’t worry ladies. I am leaving you with family. You will be getting notebook computers that will enable you to stay in touch with me everyday. Em, would you tutor my two friends on the things they should know to run the computers?”

“You know I will Joe. Stay in touch with us everyday. Me and Janie will show your friends the ropes but I think they might show us a few tricks too.”

“Ain’t that the way it always works?” said Amanda with a laugh.

“It is!” added the Night Ranger.

“Why don’t we have a toast with some Jack Daniels before you go Joe? After all, it is your booze and I am sure Uncle Danny has more stashed somewhere!” said Little Jimbo laughing.

Soon, all of the scouts had shot glasses in their hands and were standing in a circle near the campfire.

“So, what should we toast?” asked Francis.

“I have an idea,” said Lydia.

This action surprised and pleased the experienced scouts. Lydia was starting to act with confidence.

“Okay, White Widow, tell us who should we toast on this special night,” said the Pale Rider.

“A toast…to the old man,” she said.

The scouts clinked their glasses with each other, laughing and then downed their shots.

“Boy, has the White Widow got a lot to learn!” exclaimed the Pale Rider.

“Amen to that!” added Lynn.

That comment brought laughter from everyone, including old Doc.

Joe and his Uncle Danny entered the black limousine and disappeared into the dark moving down the lonely one lane, rock covered road.

The scouts partied for an hour more and settled in for the night. Tomorrow was going to be a new day for two of them.\

* * * * *

Chapter Six

Lesson One

The morning sun was still behind the Sunrise Mountains in the east when Lydia felt something tugging on the end of her sleeping bag in her tent, waking her up. Sandra was having the same experience. Raising their heads at the same time the women saw two small dogs at the footer end of their sleeping bags with the heavy duty material in their small mouths, shaking their tiny heads back and forth vigorously. Both were growling slightly.

“What in hell is going on?” asked Sandra.

“I think that is what might be called a scout’s alarm clock! I smell something cooking!” replied Lydia.

The two small terriers scurried away from the two man tent.

Lydia peeked out of her tent to see many of the scouts she had been introduced to last night sitting around the campfire conversing, working on laptop computers and waiting to be fed breakfast. Little Jimbo was scurrying about squatting by the campfire and working with several pans. Francis was sitting on his stool smoking one of his thin cigars watching the ongoing activities.

The air was cool and crisp. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day in the desert. Sitting ten feet away from the two women’s tent were four big German Shepherds sitting on their butts as if patiently waiting for the women to wake up. Two of the Shepherds were brown and two were as black as night. The two smaller dogs were trotting back and forth in front of the four big dogs excitedly. When Lydia poked her head out of her tent the two small dogs paused while the four German Shepherds tilted their big heads as if puzzled.

Lydia retreated to the interior of the small tent.

“I definitely know it is time to get up Sandra. I think everyone is waiting on us and we have an escort outside the tent waiting on us.”

The two women crawled out of their tent, stood and stretched and then surveyed the six animals in front of them. Then the four German Shepherds turned and trotted over to the group of scouts, with two of the Shepherds sitting down next to the Night Ranger and the remaining two lying down in front of Calamity Jane. One of the terriers quickly ran to jump in the Night Ranger’s lap while the other stood in front of Lydia, wagging his tail.

As she was about to reach down and pet the little dog he jumped up to her chest. She instinctively caught the little critter and the mutt attempted to lick her face once secure in her arms.

She laughed when he achieved success. Then she heard a voice.

“Studly, behave yourself!” yelled the Black Widow.

The two new scouts moved to the campfire.

“I keep trying to break him of doing that but when he likes a person he tries to give them a kiss. Studly must like you a lot,” said Emily.

“He is the cutest little thing,” answered Lydia carefully sitting the small dog to the ground.

“That little fake is after your bacon. The two Jack Russell terriers are always doing that at breakfast, if any bacon is cooking,” laughed Little Jimbo.

“Did you girls sleep well last night?” asked Amanda.

“I am a little sore but it wasn’t that bad. Yes, I slept well,” replied Sandra.

“So did I. Actually, it was the first night of peaceful rest I have had in a long time. Getting undisturbed rest in the Dyke’s compound was hard to accomplish most nights,” said Lydia.

“We brushed most of the little rocks away when we set up your tent yesterday. Rocks in the desert are always a problem, that and rattlesnakes but the mutts help in making sure no rattler crawls into the camp,” added Lynn.

“Do you girls like coffee?” asked Doc.

“We sure do! We don’t get coffee very often in Sin City! The government doesn’t send it often and when they do there is usually a big fight over who takes the one hundred pound bag off the food train,” said Lydia.

“We always have good coffee. Here try one of ours,” said Doc.

The old man handed two aluminum cups to both of the women.

“Careful, it is hot. Little Jimbo makes a mean pot of java.”

“That is because you taught me how old man!” exclaimed Jimbo.

“Big deal! Doc has taught every scout how to make coffee! That was the first damn thing he taught me to do. You remember that day, don’t you Doc?” asked Amanda.

“I sure do! You also got mad at me because I tried to get you nikked to take the transmitter out of your arm after the FEMA Camp 37 raid!”

Amanda, Jane, Emily and Lynn all laughed.

“You have to watch out for that old pervert girls! He might be old but he acts like he’s eighteen,” said Calamity Jane.

Sandra and Lydia took small sips out of their cups.

“This is delicious and the food smells fantastic. Do scouts eat like this all the time?” asked Lydia.

“We eat fairly well. Joe brought the fresh bacon, eggs and ham last night. Sometimes you have to kill an animal to eat. In the mountains you eat fairly well. Francis, Lynn, Janie and Emily always eat well because of the carts and the mules. They can take a lot of supplies with them when they travel. Me and Jimbo usually kill for our food out on the trail but that can be some good eating. It just takes a little more of our time. Those four scouts have to take a lot of extras because of all the animals but it seems to work for them. Jimbo and I travel light,” answered Amanda.

“When I have to travel I always like to go with the Reaper squad,” said Doc.

“What are you talking about old man? You usually go with Ringo and a hundred scouts. They treat you like a king!” exclaimed Jane.

“Yes they do. Those boys take good care of me in these mountains.”

Jimbo started to serve up plates of bacon, ham and eggs to everyone.

“There is a big skillet of bacon on the fire. We all can’t possibly eat all that bacon!” said Lydia while eating her breakfast.

The scouts laughed.

“Did I say something funny?” asked Lydia.

“No. Actually, Joe figured out exactly how much bacon we needed for this morning. You will see once we are all finished but if you want more pieces of bacon, feel free to have more,” answered Lynn.

Fifteen minutes later while Jimbo was cleaning up the new arrivals found out what the Night Ranger meant. The extra bacon was for the six dogs.

“If you ever feed the mutts make sure the first treat given out goes to the alpha males or you might be breaking up a dog fight. The alpha males in this pack are the terriers.”

Then she gave a piece of bacon each to Studly and Tiger at the same time. Then she gave pieces of bacon to the German Shepherds.

“Those two small dogs are the alpha males?” asked Sandra with a giggle.

“They think they are and the German Shepherds let them act that way. Don’t ask me but it works. The big brown Shepherd on the right is Major and the black one next to him is Sarge. The little white and brown terrier is Tiger. They are Francis’s dogs. The brown Shepherd on the left is Jake and the black one is Thor. The little white terrier is Studly. Those three belong to Jane and Emily. They all get along with each other surprisingly well. Studly and Tiger get into it sometimes but it only lasts for a couple of seconds. They know better than to fight with each other but there have been some real growling contests in the past,” laughed Lynn.

“Do all the scouts travel with dogs?” asked Lydia.

“About half of them do now days. They have proven to be life savers and make safe travel much easier. I think more scouts would have dogs but they take a little while to train. There is a young man named Johnny who operates a breeding facility at the base and is performing an outstanding job but the demand is much greater than the supply. Johnny is getting there though. And there are some scouts who like to travel light and move fast, like Amanda and Little Jimbo. Every scout develops his or her own style, I guess,” answered Lynn.

“Why do you call Little Jimbo, Little Jimbo? He is as tall as Francis!” asked Lydia.

Lynn laughed.

“You will find out once we get to the Secondary Base, maybe. It depends if Big Jimbo is home or out in the field. Big Jimbo is a good six feet eight inches tall or taller. Plus he is a big man physically. They both used to ride on the trail together until the Pale Rider grabbed Little Jimbo. Those two have blazed a trail together all over the west for the past three years, maybe a little longer.”

“So what are we to do today?” asked Sandra.

Everyone turned to look at Francis.

“I reckon we will head up Highway Ninety Three towards Sin City prison and go across the high bridge by the Hoover Dam to get back on the other side of the Colorado River. That should be an easy trip today since the Texans control that area. That will give Lydia and Sandra some time to get familiar with riding a horse. We should be able to get in the mountains east of Nellis Air Force Base by nightfall. Then I plan on heading back to the Secondary Base so our new friends can get familiar with the support people. After that I am heading north to Elko to kill a relative of mine. Once I finish that I reckon we will swing across the top of the state to visit Fort Schultz, check out Rochester and have a nice steak dinner. We will need to stop by the twin caves so Lynn and I can replace our special bombs. By that time Zak will have something more for us to do.”

“How long will that take? How long a ride is that?” asked Lydia.

“We don’t really know. We don’t haul ass through the mountains like a lot of scouts. If we don’t do any killing it should take a couple of months, maybe longer, but we have never been on any trail where there hasn’t been some killing going on. There is a small FEMA camp up by Elko we may visit. It just depends on where God wants us to go I reckon,” answered Francis.

“We better get moving Francis. This past night has been fun but it is time to get back to work,” said Doc.

“Yeah, I reckon so. By the time everyone gets packed I will have the dogs, mules and horses fed. Lynn, why don’t you and Janie show our new ladies how to saddle a horse? I reckon that will be their first lesson as a scout. You girls pay close attention and feel free to ask any questions. The worst thing in the world is for your saddle to come loose on a dangerous mountain trail.”

Lynn and Jane stood up from their stools and Lydia and Sandra got their first lesson as a scout.

* * * * *

Chapter Seven

The McFoster Brothers

Five hours had passed since leaving the campsite and sun was shining in a clear blue sky directly overhead. The scout party had entered the Lake Mead National Recreation Area one hour ago. The sign for the national park was still in good shape after years of neglect. During the journey the scouts saw not a single vehicle traveling the highway to the city of Phoenix. There was not much land travel by vehicles with gas at one hundred dollars or more a gallon. At the last bend in the highway Francis stopped his horse, Two, and turned to speak to his scout party.

“The big bridge over the Hoover Dam Canyon is ahead one mile. Have you girls and guys noticed the foot soldiers watching us from the hills on our right?”

“I sure have. I saw the first one a mile back. Then there were more popping up. They are Texas boys. You can tell by those stupid big hats they wear,” answered Little Jimbo.

Francis looked at Lynn and she nodded towards the dogs. All four of the German Shepherds were watching the hills on their right. Tiger was sitting in his usual place in Lynn’s right saddle bag and he too was keeping a watchful eye on the hills to the right.

“Everyone stay sharp. They are our allies or so says the old man. Just keep your guns nearby in case we need them because you never know now days,” ordered Francis.

Francis then spurred Two and headed up the sloping roadway that crossed the Colorado River. Going across the bridge the scouts could see Hoover Dam because of the height they were afforded by sitting on a horse. Doc, on his one wheeled cart, was griping because the only thing he could see was the concrete retaining wall. At the end of the bridge on the Nevada side was a platoon of men stretched across the four lane road, waiting. The experienced scouts were calm and collected. Lydia, on the other hand, moved her pneumatic bow from her back and laid it across her saddle. She found it hard to trust any man who was running free.

“Hey cutie, you need to relax. You can keep that weapon across your saddle but keep it there for now. Don’t go picking it up unless you need it,” said Jane pulling up beside the new scout on her horse.

“I’m sorry Jane. Men make me nervous.”

“Call me Janie. Some men make me nervous too but some of them are a lot of fun. You will get used to men over time. Every male scout I know is a good man. Some are more obnoxious than others, some are serious and some are great lovers. Right now, these men are strangers so we just have to be alert.”

“What does that mean for a scout?”

Janie and Emily laughed.

“That means we will only kill them if we have too!” said the Black Widow.

Lydia laughed nervously, but just a little. She was keeping an eye on the group of men.

Francis led the scouts up to the group of men, stopping ten feet away. Once he arrived he pulled out one of his thin cigars and struck a match on his saddle. He then slowly lit his cigar and inhaled deeply. Then he blew a perfect ring of smoke. He watched intently as two men, about the same age as he, stepped forward.

“Hello scouts. We have been informed about your arrival and….”

The man who appeared to be in charge moved his big cowboy hat back on his head.

“Francis?” he exclaimed.

Francis focused his stare on the man’s face.

“Hello Wiley. It has been a while since I saw you last.”

Francis was as cool as usual, not showing any emotion.

“Damn! Trevor, it’s Francis!” said the man, turning to yell at one of the foot soldiers spanning the road.

A second young man quickly trotted forward to stand beside the leader of the platoon.

“Well, I will be damned! It is Francis! I told you that the guy on the reward posters looked a lot like Francis! So you are a scout! Me and Wiley often wondered what happened to you after your pa got killed.”

Lynn, who was sitting on her horse next to Francis, spoke.

“Are these friends of yours?” she asked with a smile.

Wiley and Trevor were looking at the female scouts sitting on their horses behind Lynn and Francis. They both were oogling the women intently.

“Damn Francis, do you always travel with a harem? What a bunch of good looking women!” exclaimed Wiley.

“That’s okay boys. I am more than enough for Francis. The ladies behind me are my friends. How do you two know Francis?” asked Lynn.

“We used to live next door to him on our grandfather’s farm in Elko, at least during the summers. We hung together for what, seven or eight summers, Francis?” asked Wiley.

“I reckon we did. It was a long time ago. So what have you two been up to during these hard times?”

“The day after your pa got killed Homeland Security showed up in force at your pa’s farm. Besides your pa there were twenty or more Homeland Security agents dead in the snow on the road. They were looking for the scouts and for your family. They came to Grandpa’s house while we were hiding out in the far barn. You remember the barn. It was the one we nearly burnt down one day smoking some weed after skipping school. When the Homeland Security agents left we went into the house and found Gramps dead on the floor. They had beaten him to a pulp, wanting to know where we were and where you and your family were. We grabbed two horses and headed south to Texas as fast as we could travel.”

“To Texas? You should have headed to Nevada.”

“We sure should have! When we got to Texas we joined their Free America outfit. We were in some skirmishes until the big one at Arlington. That was a nightmare,” said Trevor.

“You two knuckleheads were in the battle at Arlington? Everyone heard about that battle! Didn’t the Texas Free America outfit lose a hundred thousand men in that battle?” asked Francis.

Trevor and Wiley both became very somber.

“More that that. The federal forces lost about the same amount until the day of deliverance came. It was a stalemate for three months. There was this open plain between two small mountain ranges north of Arlington. It was just like in the movies, with trenches, razor wire and bomb holes all over the open area.  They would charge us and we would kill them. Then we would charge them and they would kill us. It was crazy until the lady on the white horse arrived,” said Wiley.

Lynn turned to look at Amanda. Amanda just shrugged her shoulders. Little Jimbo was shaking his head no, indicating not to say anything for the moment.

Francis, however wanted to know more.

“So, what happened at Arlington?”

“I will always remember that day like it was yesterday. It was a clear day but it was real windy. The wind was at our backs. Everybody was up standing in the trenches. We didn’t know if we were gonna’ charge that day or get charged. Suddenly, to our left on a big steep, sloping hill that bordered the killing field there was a blond haired woman on a white horse. She was carrying a flag, a big flag on a long pole. She stuck the pole into the ground and the wind unfurled the flag. The flag had a large coiled rattlesnake imprinted on both sides and the words Free America. Than a man pulled up beside her on a black horse and he was pulling a small wooden cart. They both dismounted and pushed the cart off the top of the mountain causing it to head towards the field of death. In the cart was a green fifty five gallon steel drum. The two people had our attention and the fed’s attention. As the federal army was turning their guns towards the man and woman the barrel exploded with a loud bang when it reached the bottom of the hill. Immediately a thick green cloud of gas poured out of what was left of the barrel and the wind did the rest. We were given an order to retreat…quickly. We came back the next day and started to use bulldozers to bury the dead federal troops. There were over a hundred thousand killed within ten minutes or less,” concluded Wiley.

“Yeah, I was there too. The woman and man ended a battle that had been fought for three months in three minutes. I think it was the scout known as the Pale Rider. We never found out. After that battle, we had a few more conflicts and we were finally sent here to guard Hoover Dam for the past year. I am bored out of my mind. Plus, serving in the Texas Free America ain’t like it used to be. The Christian Democrat party won the last election so now we have to go to church every Sunday morning and Wednesday night. It is mandatory for everyone in Texas,” said Trevor.

“Wow! I hadn’t heard about that!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Yeah. The Texas legislature even outlawed booze. That is really crazy!” added Wiley.

“Hmm, sounds like they are getting as crazy as the federal government. It won’t be long before they start rounding up people and sending them to concentration camps,” said Francis.

“They ain’t got that crazy yet but they sure have sent a lot of people to Sin City prison!” added Wiley.

Sandra looked at Lydia. The young blonde had a pained look on her face but said nothing.

“So, what are you doing here Francis?” asked Trevor.

“We came down here to pick up two new scouts and take them up north for some on the job training. We aren’t staying long fellows. It was great seeing you two again and I am glad you are still alive but we have to get going. We need to make the Sunrise Mountains by nightfall.”

“Which two are the new scouts?” asked Trevor.

He took a few steps to his left to look down the line of horses. That was when he saw the white horse and the Pale Rider.

“Oh my God Wiley! I know that horse! I will never forget that horse! It’s her! It’s the lady who saved our lives!”

Wiley moved to stand beside his brother and he too, instantly realized that the Pale Rider was standing before him.

Both moved to greet Amanda when four German Shepherds moved to block their path, baring their long white teeth.

Wiley and Trevor froze in their tracks. Neither man dared to take another step.

Lynn had turned in her saddle watching, with a grin on her face.

“Jungen..benimm dich!” exclaimed Lynn.

The four German Shepherds continued to sit where they were but they ceased baring their teeth.

“Uh, ma’am, what did you just tell them?” asked Wiley.

“I told them to behave themselves or else! You may say hello to Amanda without getting bit.”

The two brothers timidly moved to the right around the sitting Shepherds and went to stand beside Amanda. They both extended their hands and she shook both.

“You were the one weren’t you? I will always remember that white horse!” exclaimed Trevor.

“Most people do remember Spooky. The government never puts my photo on the wanted poster, just a picture of my horse. I guess I ain’t as pretty as he is.”

“Oh yes ma’am! You are very pretty! Do you have a boyfriend?” asked Wiley.

“As a matter of fact I do. He is sitting on the horse next to me and Spooky. Say hello to Wiley and Trevor, Little Jimbo.”

Little Jimbo at first acted tough and mean with the young men but he couldn’t maintain his false demeanor. He started to laugh sending waves of relief through Trevor and Wiley’s minds.

“The two new scouts are the two ladies on the horses standing on each side of the elderly gentlemen on the one wheeled cart. Their names are Lydia and Sandra. The two ladies on the horses in front of them are Janie and Emily. They have been Free America scouts for several years now,” said Amanda.

Trevor and Wiley moved along the row shaking hands with everyone. When Trevor got to Lydia he paused for a long moment, locking eyes with the blonde haired new scout. He mumbled some inane thing, like nice to meet you, but his mind was racing a mile a second. Lydia was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his young life. Suddenly, Trevor saw the empty saddle on the horse Zak had rode from the Secondary Base to the meeting in Arizona with Joe. He knew then what he wanted to do in his life. While Wiley was introducing himself to the two new scouts Trevor quickly walked to the front of the line to stand in front of Francis and Lynn.

“I want to be a scout Francis, just like those two new ladies.”

“You want to be what!” exclaimed Francis.

“I want to be a scout! I know how to ride a horse and you should know that from the days we shared on your father’s farm. I know how to fight and shoot many types of guns. I want to be a scout. There is a horse in the back of the line with an empty saddle. I want to go with you and learn what I have to, to become a Free America scout.”

Wiley had heard what his little brother had said as he approached where Trevor was standing next to Francis, still on Two.

“What are you talking about Trev? You can’t just up and leave Hoover Dam!” exclaimed Wiley.

“The hell I can’t! I didn’t sign nuthin’ when I joined up to fight the government with the Texans four years ago! I got a healthy dose of fighting for the first three years, I will say that! Then as a reward, the Texas Free America movement sends me here to baby sit a big piece of concrete! I didn’t sign up for that! I want to be a scout!”

“Trev, you need to settle down and think about this.”

“There ain’t nothing to think about Wiley! If Francis allows me, I am going to get in that empty saddle! Francis, please let me go with you!”

“I don’t know Trevor. Wiley is just trying to take care of his little brother,” replied Francis.

“Please, Francis! If you don’t let me get on that horse I will still leave and follow your tracks!”

Doc pulled up alongside Francis on his one wheeled cart.

“What’s the problem Francis? We have never denied anyone, especially a young man with the experience he has had, to fight for freedom.”

“Doc, his big brother doesn’t want him to go. They are old friends of mine from many years ago.”

Doc eyed Wiley and Trevor intently. Finally he spoke.

“How long will it take you to get your things young man?”

“Our quarters are beneath this big bridge. Give me ten minutes!”

“You have five,” replied Doc.

Trevor bolted from the highway to a stairway beside the road. Francis looked at Wiley for a moment, then pulled out one of his thin cigars and lit it.

“Wiley, you better get moving. You have less than five minutes.”

Wiley looked at the steps, looked at the female scouts and then looked at Francis, who blew a perfect smoke ring into the air. Then the young man bolted for the steps.

“We will give them a little longer than that Doc,” added Francis.

Two minutes had passed when Francis and Doc heard a commotion coming from the ramp that ended at the checkpoint. The man creating a ruckus was a silver haired old man with medals and ribbons on his jacket.

“Uh oh. Looks like trouble Francis,” said Doc.

Francis turned in his saddle and nodded at his female scouts. The Night Ranger, Calamity Jane and the Black Widow moved their Big X assault rifles out of their saddle holsters and placed them across their saddles, moving slowly. The Pale Rider reached into a rear saddle bag and produced a big, wicked looking pipe bomb equipped with a fuse that could be lit and a remote detonator. Francis grinned at the women for a brief moment and then turned back in his saddle to face the approaching, disgruntled old man. The man was carrying a clipboard mounted on a gray box, which didn’t surprise Francis. The man looked like the type that was an expert at pushing a pencil.

“What the hell is going on here? What are you vagrant, homeless people doing, blocking my bridge!” he screamed, stopping directly in front of Two glaring at Francis.

Francis calmly blew a smoke ring in the air then focused his cold, cruel stare on the old man.

“And just who the fuck do you think you are old man?  Do you know, for some unknown reason I am feeling restless, maybe because of my past experiences, and maybe because you have a big mouth and that you are rude as shit?  Now I remember why.  I just naturally don’t like old men period.”

“Get off my bridge!” responded the colonel.

Francis looked at the large green sign in the ground on the right side of the roadway that read in big tan letters, Welcome to Nevada.

“You are trespassing on my side of the bridge old man. Texas owns the western half of this bridge, Nevada owns this half. You need to move your old ass to the other side, now!”

The timing of the McFoster brothers couldn’t have been better. Both Trevor and Wiley burst from the top of the stairs each carrying a duffle bag slung over their shoulders.

“Sergeant McFoster! Just where in the hell do you think you are going?” screamed the colonel.

Trevor had a very serious look on his face. Wiley suddenly grinned and strode up to where he was standing face to face with the colonel.

“Trevor and I are leaving to become Free America scouts for Nevada colonel. I must say, serving underneath you the past year has been an experience I will try to suppress…for the rest of my life, you arrogant old son of a bitch.”

Francis grinned. Wiley hadn’t changed that much since his younger years when the two men were boyhood friends.

“Troops! Arrest the McFosters and these idiots!” he screamed, pointing at Francis.

It is said that some things in life happen quickly. Francis produced two of his 1911 colts out of nowhere, one in each hand, twirling them as if they were toys, suddenly stopping them and aiming both at the colonel’s face less than four feet away.

The four German Shepherd’s moved on the fourteen young Texas troops strewn across the four lane road, crouching low to the ground and moving fast. The four big dogs were in attack mode and were waiting for a command from either Francis, Lynn or Janie.

“Any of you fuckers move on those dogs and you are dead!” yelled Lynn, sending off a short, twenty round burst above the Texas troop’s heads in less than four seconds.

The young Texas troops froze while the German Shepherds moved behind them. Calamity Jane and the Black Widow both had their Big X chain guns leveled at the men.

Trevor and Wiley had not moved. The rude colonel’s face turned white with fear. He was looking down the barrels of Francis’s two pistols

“Here guys, take one of my guns each,” Francis said, twirling the deadly pistols at the same time and offering the butts of the weapons to his two boyhood friends.

“Keep them handy for now. Trevor, throw your bag on the old man’s cart and ride with him. Wiley, you take the horse with the empty saddle at the rear. And stay focused for the next few minutes. You don’t need to be looking at Sandra’s and the White Widow’s butts for the next few minutes. You will have plenty of time to do that later.”

Then Francis turned to address the colonel, who had dropped his clipboard to the concrete roadway.

“Amanda! I need some help up here!” yelled Francis.

The Pale Rider dismounted Spooky and she carried a large black cylinder in her right hand. In her left hand, she carried a smaller black cylinder one and a half inches in diameter.

“Colonel! That woman is the one known as the Pale Rider!” one of the young Texas troops yelled.

“Yep, that be me.”

Amanda placed the big black cylinder on the roadway and pushed a red button that caused a red LED light mounted on its side to start blinking.

Then she moved to stand in front of the colonel, face to face, one foot away. Little Jimbo yelled from the back of the line.

“Now baby, don’t you hurt that bad man!”

Then he laughed, but he was the only one. Little Jimbo was casually sitting on his horse, smoking a cigarette and was the only scout who didn’t have a weapon in his hand. He knew he didn’t need one for the moment. The female scouts had the situation in control, no matter what the fourteen Texas guards choose to do.

“You know something Colonel? Me and the love of my life spent six months of our lives riding around in your nation saving your boy’s lives. And this is how you repay Nevada Free America. That pisses me off. I have a special little present for you to keep.”

Amanda grabbed the Colonel’s belt and roughly pulled it forward, cramming the smaller black cylinder into the front of his pants. Then she pushed a red button on the cylinder and a red LED light started to blink.

“As long as you don’t move and don’t pee in your pants your detonation experts, which I know you are supposed to have at Hoover Dam, should figure out how to save you. And tell them to be real careful with that big cylinder. Your guard detail might have nothing to guard anymore if your boy’s hand gets shaky. Is that all you need Reaper?” she asked.

As she turned to leave the Jack Russell terrier named Studly appeared from beneath Two and quickly moved to stand behind the Colonel. Then he lifted his right leg and peed on the Colonel’s right leg. Amanda watched and laughed.

“It’s a good thing Studly didn’t aim higher!”

Then the gorgeous blonde woman returned and mounted Spooky. Trevor jumped on Doc’s cart and Wiley hustled to the rear and mounted Zak’s horse.

Francis spurred Two and motioned for the Texas platoon to move aside with his Colt pistol.

“I would put those weapons on the ground now fellows!” he said firmly.

The young troops quickly complied as Francis eased down the road. Once he went ten feet behind the displaced troops he turned Two, displaying two 1911 colts, one in each hand.

“Okay my scout friends and the love of my life, let’s ease on down the road.”

The scout party eased through the checkpoint keeping their weapons at the ready. Little Jimbo tipped his hat at the Colonel when he passed by, who had not moved a muscle. Once Wiley passed through the line Francis spoke once more.

“I want you on the Texas side of the bridge from now on Colonel. When I come back this way and if I catch you on Nevada soil there will be no bridge to guard in the future.”

“Wait! I want to know your name! I am going to report this incident to my superiors and I am sure they will be getting in touch with your superior!”

“Sure Colonel! My name is Zak, that is Zak with a k, not a c and a h. You don’t need my last name and I certainly don’t want to know yours. Good day little buddy and stay real still for now.”

Then he turned Two and spurred his horse to catch up with Lynn.

“Zak? Zak? You couldn’t think of a different name?” asked Lynn with a smile.

“I wish I could be there when Zak gets the report, if one is ever generated. Ain’t that right Amanda?” asked Little Jimbo.

“That’s right. I doubt if that man reports what just happened.”

“Why is that Amanda?” asked Lynn.

“Tell her baby. Amanda has been carrying that big ass pipe with us for a couple of years, just waiting for the chance to use it,” said Little Jimbo with a laugh.

“It looked like a big bomb to me!” said Calamity Jane.

“It’s not! Both of those pipes bombs are duds! When they open them both they will find a piece of paper with a message from me and Little Jimbo!”

Francis knew all along.

“Tell them what you wrote,” he urged.

“The message on both pieces of paper read ‘Don’t fuck with Free America Nevada’. Jimbo and I both signed it,” she answered.

Everyone heard her answer and started laughing.

“I sure was sweating bullets for a minute,” said Doc.

“It was all in a day’s work. Did you enjoy the show Trevor?”

Trevor was not laughing.

“I was like Doc. I was scared shitless!”

* * * * *

Chapter Eight

Escape From Las Vegas

The scouts had made good time after the confrontation at the Hoover Dam Bridge. They had managed to skirt Nellis Air Force Base to the east by staying on the isolated mountain trails. It was a new morning, everyone had swapped tales about each other lives during the night and old friendships had been rekindled. This morning, as the sun was rising, they were hitting the trail again. If everything went according to plan, they should possibly make the fork in the trail, the one which led to the Javier Trail to the northwest and the other, the infamous Nightmare Trail to the northeast. It would be an all day ride.

“How are you girls feeling this morning?” asked Calamity Jane, turning to face Sandra and Lydia.

“My legs are sore and my butt is hurting a little too,” replied Lydia.

“I’m sorry. You are getting introduced to horse riding the hard way. After today you will be really sore but tomorrow you will start to get used to it. You are young. Stand up in your stirrups and ride for a mile or so like that until your feet start to get sore. I noticed you both were wearing heavy duty hiking shoes. Is that what you girls wore on foot patrol in Sin City prison?”

“Always. A piece of sharp glass or a rusty nail won’t penetrate the sole of our shoes,” added Sandra.

“That is most wise. You have to take care of your feet. Getting crippled out in this desert is like a death sentence, unless you have a partner to help you. Sometime later on today when we take a break me and Em will show you some extra guns we have, let you pick out want you want to carry until we get to the armory at the Secondary Base. Once we get there you can take your pick. Our armory has a vast array of weapons for the scouts.”

“It seems to me that the pistol of choice is the one Francis carries,” said Lydia.

“Oh yes, the colt 1911, the pistol that won the west. It will stop a big man with one well placed shot. Those are hard to find. Francis carries more than one. He usually has four strapped to his body somewhere. The Hussein guardsmen like those pistols too. Maybe we will pick up a few of those before this ride is over. You never know when you travel with Francis.”

The two new female scouts mounted their horses as Wiley rode up on Zak’s horse.

“Good morning Lydia and Sandra. Did you both sleep well last night?”

“Very soundly thank you.  After supper I passed out within ten minutes. And you?” said Sandra.

Sandra liked the new transfer from Texas. He had a disarming smile.

“I am loving this! I like this fine horse and last night the German Shepherds and I pulled guard duty. All four of them are well behaved animals. You two need to get with Lynn or Janie some time today and get some dog biscuits. Either one of those ladies will tell you how to use them. You will make friends for life with those animals. Later on during the night I pulled guard duty with Francis and we didn’t do much guarding. The six dogs did all the work, well, three of them did at first and then the second shift arrived later in the night. It was the best guard duty I ever pulled. Are your bodies getting sore from the all the riding?”

“A little,” acknowledged Lydia standing in her stirrups.

The young woman reached down with her right hand and rubbed her outer thigh muscle, wincing slightly with pain..

“Wait here a second,” he said as he spurred his ride.

The two women watched as Wiley went up to the one wheeled cart where Doc and Trevor were sitting, patiently waiting to move out. They saw Doc hand something to Wiley. He quickly returned to Lydia and Sandra on his horse.

“Here, Doc said for you to take these when you get so sore today you feel like you can’t go on. He said that after an hour or two your muscles might limber up and you will be okay.”

“What are those?” asked Sandra.

“Some type of pain pill. Amanda said they work great but only take them when you are really hurting and try to work through the soreness this morning. Little Jimbo said it was better to work through the pain too but Amanda told him to shut up because Jimbo never feels any pain because he is already brain numb. I think she was kidding.”

He laughed and handed a pill to each of the new scouts. They both placed a pill in their vest pocket. The two newly freed Sin City inmates were going to work through the soreness in their legs and feet. Lydia remembered the day after her first night patrol in Sin City prison and how sore her legs were the next day. She took comfort in the fact that her best friend who was also in excellent shape was also very sore.

“Do you two smoke? The Night Ranger smokes. She gave me a packet of these thin cigars and told me to go lightly on them until we get to the base to get supplies. Would you like to try one?”

Sandra looked at Lydia and shrugged her shoulders.

“Why the hell not? Sure, we will give them a try. Thanks Wiley.”

“Francis told me last night we are about to see some spectacular views of Nevada today. It should be fun. Let me know if you two need anything. Later!”

Wiley turned his horse and joined up to ride alongside his little brother and Doc.

“For a man, he seems nice. Other than Preacher Joe that is the closest I have been to a man in years.  Every time I was on patrol with you if a man ever got that close to me he usually had an arrow through his neck or head. Having one speak with me that I didn’t know was a weird feeling,” said Sandra.

“You mean it is the first time you have been close to a man that you or I didn’t have to kill,” said Lydia.

“Yes because you have killed a lot of men, far more than I have, but he seems to be nice. Look at Francis and Lynn, Amanda and Little Jimbo, both those couples seem tight, real tight. It would be nice to find a male scout you could bond with, I would think. I just don’t know now days,” said Sandra.

“Yeah, maybe,” was all Lydia said.

Francis mounted Two, turned to look behind him to see if everyone was ready to go and then spurred his ride. Lynn said something pointing to the rear and the front of the column of scouts. Two German Shepherds and a small dog moved to the rear of the line of scouts and two German Shepherds and the remaining small dog disappeared down the trail ahead of them.

The small squadron of scouts proceeded to follow a narrow, pebble strewn mountain trail that always seemed to be rising in altitude. The trail often switched to a hardpan open trail to sometimes plunge into the depths of a deep mountain, rock strewn ravine. The weather was perfect for riding a horse, not too warm and not too cold. The sky overhead was crystal blue with not a cloud overhead. After four hours of pressing forward Francis stopped Two and dismounted on a high part of the trail. On their left was a high ravine wall but the trail in this area was uncluttered and wide, covered mostly with sand. Francis motioned for everyone to tether their horses and to come forward, signaling them to be as quiet as they possibly could. After a minute everyone was gathered around the scout known as the Reaper.

“I thought we would take a quick break, water the animals, get a bite to eat and get a history lesson about Free America on this part of the Las Vegas Trail. If you peek over that ravine wall you will see below us FEMA Camp 37, which is in the process of being rebuilt for the third time and the Hussein compound, which is now much longer, much bigger and houses a lot more soldiers than it did previously. Amanda can tell you more about this particular spot and what happened almost six years ago when Free America first razed FEMA Camp 37.”

Everyone turned to look at the Pale Rider. Amanda removed her hat, hanging it on her saddle horn and stroked her long blonde hair out of her tanned face. Then she spoke.

“This spot certainly brings back some memories and I remember that day as if it were yesterday. It was my second day of freedom after hiding in a hole in the ground like a desert rat with eighteen other inmates and some Free Americans that I had just met for the first time. I was scared shitless that first day but a long haired, beaten up old man somehow gave me a feeling of …confidence, of not taking worry to a burdensome level. There were only three of us here that morning when it was still dark. It was the day after I was freed from the camp by Free America. Things went wacko that morning mostly because of my shitty attitude. The other surviving inmates along with Ringo and his men had hauled ass following Zak’s orders. Because of my shitty attitude I almost got Georgia Boy, Ringo and Scott killed that night. If it weren’t for Scott, the Liberator, and that old man who somehow knew to wait on Scott when the enemy was at the door, I wouldn’t be standing here to tell you this tale. Scott saved me that morning and carried me most of the hike on his shoulders up this ravine from the camp below. Zak was leading the way and it was the first time I got to know him. We stopped here for a rest and Zak set up a mobile radio, a powerful mobile radio. We didn’t know Zak very well and we thought he might be a bit touched in the head. Just from his appearance he looks like a hermit who has been out in the desert too long. He instructed Scott and I to watch the Stratosphere because he was about to put on a show. He said it would be a show that Las Vegas and America would remember for a long, long time. He started to play a recording of Viva Las Vegas by some singer and started to sing along with the recording. Let me tell you, Zak can’t sing a lick even though he thinks he can. Scott and I both had binoculars looking at the Stratosphere Casino, the big needle shaped tower at that time. I turned to yell at the old man for acting crazy and when I turned back there was smoke rising from the base of the Stratosphere. Free America was making an attempt to topple the tallest building east of the Mississippi River. At first the tower just leaned a little. I started to lecture him on killing innocent people and he just continued to sing, ignoring me. I turned for a few minutes later to run my mouth some more and when I turned back, there was no standing tower. Doc, Zak and Ringo had placed the charges to give the people in the casino a chance to evacuate. Scott was the only one from Free America to see the tower fall from this spot. Zak did not even bother to look. He was concentrating on his song. That tower falling made the news all over the world and I missed it. Both of the Jimbos were up the trail waiting for us with horses and they saw it but I missed it because of my big mouth and shitty attitude. That was my first lesson as a scout for Free America, to control my temper and my mouth. I still have a problem with the mouth part and sometimes my temper.”

“I remember when that happened! It freaked out everyone living in Elko!” said Trevor.

“I remember that too! I was just a kid living with my parents!” added Lydia.

“So Zak was the one who brought down the Stratosphere?” asked Wiley.

“Him, Doc, Ringo and his boys were the ones. They snuck into the building posing as a union maintenance crew and planted the explosives in the interior the week before the first attack on FEMA Camp 37. I thought Zak was totally crazy that first week. Now I know he is, crazy like a fox,” answered Amanda.

Lynn laughed.

“He is crazy! Thankfully he is one of our crazies,” she said.

“Okay. The history lesson is over. Let’s get the animals watered, get something in our bellies and get moving. This is a dangerous spot to be in daylight,” ordered Francis.

Performing their chores the scouts took turns climbing up the ravine wall to view the panorama below them. Trevor was the last to take a peek and while he was standing on a boulder overlooking the edge of the ravine wall using a pair of binoculars he said loudly.

“Uh oh! I see two choppers taking off from the guard compound! It looks like they may be headed this way!”

Francis moved quickly and stood on the same boulder beside Trevor. Francis rarely moved quickly for any reason. When Trevor made his statement, Calamity Jane, the Black Widow and the Night Ranger scrambled to their respective mule carts rummaged around in some canvas bags and brought out gray, long tubes and rested them on their shoulders.

“What are those? Stingers?” asked Trevor.

“These tubes are better than stingers. These are Swedish made surface to air missiles. You can reload each tube quickly to use again, unlike stingers. Once you use an American made stinger you throw it away. Crap! I see a lot of men on horses streaming out of the Hussein guard compound to our escape ravine. They must know we are here!” exclaimed Lynn, who had climbed up on a nearby boulder so she could get a clear shot with her shoulder fired weapon.

Jane and Emily had also found separate boulders and were waiting.

“At least, so far, I only see two! It won’t take them long to get here!” yelled Jane.

Wiley, Lydia and Sandra stood beside their horses, not knowing what to do and feeling helpless. Lydia decided to hop on a nearby boulder and at least watch. She removed her pneumatic bow from the holster on her back and held it in her hands in a firing position. She wasn’t sure of what she could do but she wasn’t going to stand around and do nothing.

Amanda and Little Jimbo scrambled to Janie and Lynn’s horses to grab the Big X chain guns. They too climbed up on a nearby boulder to get a clear view.

“Jimbo, grab a couple of booby traps and get them in place on the trail behind us,” ordered Francis.

“Aw, Francis, do we have to kill their horses?” he protested.

“All right then! Just place one booby trap on this trail for now Jimbo. That will keep the horse tally low and slow them down for awhile if they come up this ravine. Move it!”

Jimbo jumped down from his boulder and ran to his horse, removing one of Amanda’s pipe bombs from one of his saddle bags. He was about to head down the trail on foot when he heard Amanda yell.

“The choppers have stopped and are just hanging in the air! I think they are waiting for the horse soldiers to get up the trail and flush us out into the open,” said Amanda.

“They are hanging in the air sideways! Maybe they don’t know where we are,” said Lynn.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. They are only four or five hundred yards away from our position right now! Their guns or missiles could easily reach us but the pilots and people on board aren’t looking in our direction. They are looking at the main ravine we always use traveling out of the FEMA Camp 37 prison. They must be after someone in the ravine that we don’t know about. Everyone stay low behind the ravine wall and keep those Swedish rocket launchers ready to fire. If those choppers start to turn in our direction knock them out of the sky. Let’s wait and see what they are up to,” ordered Francis.

The only person who was standing on a boulder with a pair of binoculars was the young man Trevor. Trevor focused his attention away from the helicopters and started to scan the long, deep, eastern desert ravine.  Everyone was waiting to see what would happen next. It was a tense moment for every member of the scout party.

“Wait a second! I see what they are looking for! I see three young kids scrambling in the ravine! One boy and two girls! They can’t be more than twelve years old! They are wearing black jumpsuits!” exclaimed Trevor.

“What? I used to wear one of those outfits! Those are FEMA work suits! Are you sure?” asked Amanda.

“I can see them good now! The boy looks like he might be twelve! The two girls are smaller, both blonde haired. One of the girls looks like she would be lucky to be ten! They are hauling ass up the ravine! I think they are attempting to escape the FEMA camp!”

“Francis! What do you want to do?” yelled Lynn turning to face her man..

“We have to do something to help those kids!” yelled Calamity Jane.

“It might get us all killed. They are still a good mile away from us,” replied Francis.

The three experienced female scouts were now glaring at Francis. Suddenly the scouts heard a loud hiss to their left. It was a short, loud hiss.

The scouts on the boulders watched as a twenty six inch long arrow streamed through the air toward the pilot in the nearest helicopter. The shot was true. The arrow went completely through the pilot’s open window and blasted through his neck.

The helicopter lurched violently to the right colliding with the hovering helicopter twenty yards away. Both helicopters immediately exploded into balls of fire falling five hundred yards to the desert floor below. The three experienced female scouts with the missile launchers resting on their right shoulders turned to look at Lydia on their left. The young inmate from Sin City prison was calmly reloading her pneumatic bow, concentrating on the task at hand. Lydia didn’t seem to be in any hurry.

Wiley, who was still sitting on Zak’s horse, turned the animal and barreled down the ravine in the direction of the kids. Francis watched, shaking his head.

“Well, at least the government goons still don’t know we are here for now.”

Francis jumped on Two and turned his horse.

“Lynn, get everyone moving down the trail now and don’t wait! We still need to cross the open area before we get to the safety of the nearby mountain. You know where I am talking about Jimbo. I’m talking about the flat land area where Amanda had to walk across that night. Get them moving Jimbo!”

Then Francis took off on Two at a fast trot in the direction Wiley had headed out.

The remaining scouts scrambled, heading to the west on the mountain trail. Doc actually had his one wheeled cart moving fast but the mules, as usual, seemed in no hurry.

Wiley had been moving down the rock strewn ravine at a rapid, reckless pace. Within five minutes he came across the children, a young boy and two younger blonde haired small girls. The children had fear emblazoned on their young faces.

“Hi kids! My name is Wiley! Let’s go horseback riding today, okay?” was all he said with a grin on his face.

The three kids didn’t need to be convinced. The youngest girl was helped up on Wiley’s horse by the older girl. To Wiley, they looked like the two young girls might be sisters. The older girl hopped on the horse with Wiley’s help with both young girls sitting in front of him.

“Young man, you are going to have to sit in back and hold on tight.”

Wiley reached down with his left hand and the boy swung up to land on the rump of the horse. It seemed to Wiley like the young boy had ridden a horse before. At that moment several bullets began to ricochet off some nearby boulders from the pursuing Hussein Guards. Wiley spurred Zak’s horse and headed up the trail. One minute later he reached Francis.

“Keep moving Wiley! I have something for those child killers! Move it!”

Wiley did what he was told. Francis removed two of his deadly bombs from his left saddle bag, lighting the fuses with his thin cigar and tossed them down the ravine. Turning Two he spurred the horse into a full gallop as more bullets began to bounce off of nearby rocks.

Francis caught up with Wiley and pulled alongside him. The young boy was doing his best to hang on but he was bouncing around wildly on the rump of the horse.

Francis extended his left hand and the young boy quickly grabbed it. Francis lifted the boy effortlessly, landing him in the front of his saddle. At that moment, two loud explosions rocked the valley.

“They know we are here now! Let’s keep moving Wiley!” yelled Francis.

Within six minutes they were back at where they were when the incident started. The two men with the kids continued to barrel down the trail headed to the west. Within two minutes they caught up with the slow moving Doc and the rest of the party.

“It is going to take us another five minutes to get across this flat area! Everyone needs to keep moving up the trail!” yelled Francis as he transferred the young boy to Doc’s moving cart with Trevor’s help.

Wiley did the same with the two young girls while the female scouts watched with wonder on their faces. The women were shocked to see young kids dressed in black FEMA work suits.

“Jimbo, grab a shoulder launcher for me and Wiley!” ordered Francis.

“What are you doing Francis?” demanded Lynn as she started to whip her mule’s butt pulling the one wheeled cart with a short rope, attempting to force the animal to pick up the pace.

The mule responded, breaking into a trot.

“Making sure we stay alive, lover! You ladies stay with the kids, get on the mountain trail and find some shelter in the boulders. Me, Wiley and Little Jimbo are going to hang back on the flatland to make sure no choppers sneak up on us. Move it and no arguing!”

Jimbo handed a launcher to Wiley and Francis. All three men stopped their horses for a moment in the center of the flat land on the Las Vegas Trail that was between two high mountains while the rest of the scout party continued to head west.

“Have you ever used one of these launchers, Wiley?” asked Francis calmly.

“Never.”

“You just flip this cover off this button. When you see your target press the button and the trigger is ready. Just hang on tight when you press the trigger because the thing has a kick and make sure no one is directly behind you to get caught in the backfire. The missile will do the rest.”

“We ain’t gonna’ sit out here in the open are we?” asked Little Jimbo nervously looking to the south.

“We are for a minute or two. We have to give the girls a chance to get ahead of us a little ways. If any choppers get off the ground they will zero in on us first sitting out here in the open,” answered Francis.

“Just like sitting ducks,” said Little Jimbo.

Francis nodded his head yes.

“Just like sitting ducks,” he said with his gravelly, low voice.

“Just like sitting ducks,” said Wiley nervously, fidgeting with his new weapon resting on his right shoulder.

Then Francis removed a thin cigar from his vest coat pocket with his free left hand, struck a match and lit his smoke. He took a deep breathe and blew a perfect smoke ring, looking to the south. He knew any helicopters would be coming from that direction.

“At least there is no wind now,” he said.

“Damn Francis! How can you be smoking at a time like this? I am about to shit my pants!” exclaimed Wiley.

Wiley turned to look at Little Jimbo and he too, was lighting up a cigarette with his free left hand.

“This is the best time to have a little rest and relaxation. Here, have a cigarette. It is kind of like when the guy offers you a last cigarette when you are tied to an execution post. I am sure you have seen one of those Mexican dictator movies in your life,” said Little Jimbo.

Wiley took the cigarette and found that Little Jimbo had to light it. His left hand was shaking too much.

“That was a crazy move with the kids Wiley, but you did good, real good. You were lucky you didn’t get a bullet in the back,” said Francis blowing another smoke ring, patiently waiting.

At least two minutes had gone by since the trio of men had stopped on the flat plain.

“I will agree with that! You wouldn’t have gotten any pussy for a month if Wiley hadn’t made his move Francis! Lynn, Amanda, Janie and Em looked like they were about to shoot you with those launchers!” laughed Little Jimbo nervously, still looking to the south.

“I hear some choppers!” exclaimed Wiley, standing in his stirrups looking to the south.

The men looked across the valley and saw four attack helicopters moving in their direction.

“Oh shit! Someone is going to have to reload fast!” exclaimed Little Jimbo throwing his cigarette to the ground.

All of a sudden a surface to air missile streaked out of the air from the right. The three men fired their rocket launchers at the same time. All four of the missiles made contact, blowing the helicopters and their crews out of the Nevada sky. As the pieces of the four helicopters impacted the high desert ground the three male scouts scrambled to reload their Swedish launchers. While reloading they heard the hoof beats of horses quickly approaching. The horse riders were the Night Ranger and the Pale Rider. Both women had smug smiles on their faces.

“Okay macho men. I think now is the time to quite playing shoot out at the okay corral and head to the mountains. Emily used her notebook computer and told us there were four helicopters on the way for now but you never know. There could be more on the way. You three certainly wouldn’t know. We don’t know because we had to come back and rescue you outnumbered fellows. Let’s get moving! The little kids are probably scared to death because of the loud explosions and the scary old Santa Clause driving the one wheeled cart. Thank God Trevor and the girls are there to calm them while we had to come and take care of the boys with the toys,” said Lynn.

The Night Ranger was slightly perturbed.

Amanda was shaking her head back and forth with a look of puzzlement on her face.

“Men! They do the craziest things just to have an excuse to take a smoke!” said Amanda.

Then the two women turned their horses and took off at a full gallop.

“Damn! It looks like you two might not get any pussy tonight!” exclaimed Wiley with a laugh.

Wiley took off on his horse at a full gallop after the two women.

“Well?” asked Little Jimbo.

“Well what?” replied Francis.

“Shouldn’t we haul ass after them?”

“Not me Little Jimbo. I never get in a hurry and I know that I am still going to get some pussy tonight, I don’t know about you. Do what you want!”

Little Jimbo spurred his horse and took off at a full gallop following Wiley.

Francis spurred Two gently and walked his horse into the mountains.

“Two, if you let them women will drive you crazy.”

* * * * *

Lynn had been leading the party of scouts and their guests for two long hours. No one had seen hide nor hair of Francis since the downing of the four government helicopters. None of the experienced scouts seemed worried about his absence.

“Okay, let’s rest here for fifteen minutes. We are about two hours away from the Nightmare Trail turnoff and we have put plenty of distance from the flatland,” said the Night Ranger.

“What do you think happened to Francis?” asked Lydia with worry in her voice.

“He’s okay. The two German Shepherds are letting me know he is back on the trail behind us doing something. He is running Sarge and Major to death I suppose, sending them to check on us and then having them return to wherever he is. The two Shepherds have been falling back every now and then for the last two hours checking up on him no matter what order I would give them. If something were wrong, they would have hauled ass back to me to let me know to go help him.”

“That sounds like Francis. He is buying us some time with some of those fancy bombs and gadgets he carries in his saddle bags. I just wish he wouldn’t kill so many horses,” said Little Jimbo.

Amanda spurred Spooky to pull alongside Lynn.

“Those three kids are starving to death! They have been constantly eating while riding on Doc’s cart. He has been feeding them peanut butter cookies and anything else he has. I guess we should stop and get to know them don’t you think?” said Amanda.

“It sounds good to me, I think we are safe for now. We are moving between two large mountains. The only thing that could get us here are Hussein mounted patrols coming up the trail from Las Vegas or moving down the trail home to Las Vegas. Our dogs will let us know if anyone is coming our way,” said Calamity Jane.

“It looks good to me too,” added the Black Widow.

The scouts dismounted their horses and tethered their rides to Doc’s one wheeled cart. Trevor jumped off the cart and stretched, then walked over to Lynn and Amanda.

“I have been talking with the kids and they have a story to tell that you ladies need to hear. It will break your heart.”

Lynn looked at the young man and he had a hollow look on his face.

“Why don’t you jump on my horse and go back down the trail with your brother and meet up with Francis? Knowing my husband he is up to something and he might need your help.”

“Thanks. I was waiting to get a chance to ride!” exclaimed Trevor.

“I will send some of the dogs to go with you,” said Lynn.

“Wiley! Let’s go for a ride!”

“And no racing! We don’t do that on these rocky trails with our horses unless we have too!” exclaimed Amanda.

“Jungen, Thor, Jake…geleiten!”

“What did you just tell them Lynn?” asked Wiley, pausing before spurring his horse.

“I just told them to drag your ass off the saddle if you run the horses unnecessarily,” answered the Night Ranger keeping a straight face.

“I promise you we won’t do that unless we have to,” answered Trevor.

The two brothers turned their rides and gently spurred the horses, following the two German Shepherds, who were trotting ahead on the trail. The two big dogs were in no hurry.

Lynn turned to face the newly arrived children.

“Hi kids! My name is Lynn! What are your names?”

At first the two young girls acted very shy but the young boy wasn’t.

“My name is Zachory,” he answered unabashed.

Doc, Little Jimbo and the female scouts were silent. Finally, Amanda recovered first.

“No kidding! My best friend in the world is named Zak, or Zachory! You will meet him in a few days. That old man driving the cart with the white beard is his daddy!”

The children turned to look at Doc, who nodded his head yes.

“Yep, my boy is named Zak too, but he is a little older than you.”

“How old is he?” asked the youngest girl.

“Well, how old do you think I am?” asked Doc.

The question brought grins to the experienced female scouts. They knew that Doc had just asked for it.

“A hundred?” asked the young girl.

All the adults could barely contain their laughter. They were surprised by Doc’s answer.

“That’s pretty close. I am pretty old.”

“What is your name honey?” asked Lynn.

“My name is Ashley. This is my sister Mary.”

“It is nice to meet you Ashley and Mary. My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley. This lady is Amanda, this is Janie, this is Emily, this is Sandra and this is Lydia. Do you know where your mommy and daddy are?”

Both the girls shook their heads no.

“I know where my mom and dad are. They both are in Heaven,” said young Zak.

This blunt statement set the female scouts back on their heels. No one knew what to say, except old Doc.

“How do you know that young Zak” he asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Because some men dressed in black wearing shiny black helmets broke into our house one night and took them there.”

“When did that happen, Zak?” asked Lynn, regaining her composure.

“When I was nine, That was three years ago. I’m a big boy now. I’m twelve.”

“And how do you know your mom and dad went to Heaven?” asked the Pale Rider.

“That’s what they told me. They said my mom and dad were sick so they held them on the floor and gave them a shot with a needle in the arm. I don’t think my mom and dad wanted the shot but after they got it they went to sleep. The men said they were taking them to Heaven. They took me to this school where there were a lot of boys like me except there were no classes for me to go to. They showed me how to operate a shovel. This year they sent me to this place but I didn’t like it, Ashley, Mary and a lot of other kids didn’t like it too. It was too hot and we never got any food. So this morning our leader got sick. That was when we decided to get away and find some food.”

“There were more kids than you that ran away?” asked Lynn.

“Everyone digging up the ground ran everywhere. Ashley, Mary and I fell into a big ditch so we ran because we couldn’t climb out.”

“Mother of God! I feel sick,” said Amanda.

“Don’t do that! If you get sick the men dressed in black will come into your room and give you a shot to take you to Heaven,” answered Zak nonchalantly.

Doc, Little Jimbo and the female scouts were quiet for a long time watching the children munch on some candy bars Trevor had given them. The three children were passing around Doc’s canteen taking an occasional sip of water.

“I like your dogs. I really like the little ones,” said Zak.

“Me too! We weren’t allowed to pet the dogs where we were because they would bite you!” exclaimed Mary.

Those were the first words the oldest girl had said.

“How would you like to go to my house where there are other kids, where you can help take care of dogs like these little dogs, ride horses and get fed. There is nothing but real nice people there and they would like to live with you, Zak and your sister. Plus, the only people who are allowed to touch a shovel are big people,” said Lynn.

The three kids looked at each other and then at Lynn.

“Sure! Can we ride a horse?” asked Zak.

Lynn knelt down to where she was face to face with young Zak.

“I tell you what. Once the three big boys get here you can ride on my horse with me. And I am sure you girls can ride on a horse with my friends when you are through eating. We will have to ride horses for a couple of days to get to our house but that will be fun. We call it camping. Then you will see all the wonderful people who live in our big house and if you don’t like it I will bring you back or take you to wherever you want to go. Is that a deal?” asked Lynn.

“That’s a deal. Let’s shake on it!” said Zak with a lot of excitement in his voice.

Lynn shook the little man’s hand.

“Deal,” she said with a grin.

Amanda was standing beside Lynn and had tears streaming down her cheeks as did the other female scouts. Lynn was the only one who maintained her composure.

The kids continued to eat, talking and laughing with Doc, who knew how to relate to children well.

Lynn and her female compatriots had an impromptu meeting behind Spooky.

“Crap! I wish we would have known about the others while we were there,” she said.

“We couldn’t have done much about it Lynn. We were fortunate to grab those three,” answered Calamity Jane, wiping the tears from her face.

“The government bastards! They are using child labor. They must be getting desperate,” said Emily.

“That statement is a good reason to keep our kids in the clubhouse in Sin City prison. Going outside those big walls is dangerous,” said Lydia.

“You got a point there. This is really gonna’ upset Francis. Stuff like this makes him go crazy,” said Lynn.

She was worried. She knew her man.

“You know, once big Zak finds out about this and listens to little Zak he is gonna’ go crazy too. It is just a matter of time before either him or Francis finds out. Francis ain’t stupid you know. He hasn’t had a chance to speak with the kids. Once he sees how thin they are, how dirty they are and the calluses on their little hands he is gonna’ go ape shit on us!” said Amanda.

“We need to find out some more information from little Zak. Let’s go talk with him some more,” said Janie.

“I agree. Let’s get the information out of them before Francis and the McFoster brothers return,” said Lynn.

Lynn and her fellow female scouts returned to Doc’s one wheeled cart where the kids and Little Jimbo were waiting. Little Jimbo had the kids laughing while performing some of his lame, but effective, magic tricks with a gold coin.

“Little Zak, may I ask you something else?” asked Lynn.

“Make sure it is a short question Night Ranger. He can’t answer with his mouth full of my peanut butter cookies. I brought three dozen with me and that is the last of two dozen. I will have to search my cart drawers to find the last dozen. Are the cookies good kids?” asked Doc.

The young Ashley paused chewing, then asked a question with her mouth full.

“What are cookies?”

None of the adults knew what to answer. Finally, Lynn once again, took control.

“What do the bad men feed you before you go to bed at night Ashley?”

The older girl, Mary, was sitting next to her younger sister with Tiger’s head on her lap. The Jack Russell terrier was lying very still, which was unusual for him, letting the young girl stroke his head. His brown eyes, however, were wide open and his ears were pointed straight up. The animal was not missing a single word.

“I like this little dog. He is so cute. We are not allowed to have dogs in the compound. What is his name?”

Finally, Mary was starting to converse with the adults.

“His name is Tiger,” answered Lynn.

“Is he your dog?”

“Mary, he belongs to all of us. It looks like he likes you. Now, he belongs to you too.”

“Can I have a dog to pet?” asked young Ashley.

“Studly…kommen!” said Lynn firmly.

The white Jack Russell terrier jumped up on the back of Doc’s one wheeled cart and placed his head on the young girl’s lap.

Ashley squealed with delight and began to stroke his head. Studly, like Tiger, remained still.

“What is his name?” she asked with a smile on her face.

“His name is Studly. He belongs to everyone too,” replied Lynn.

“I like the big brown furry one, the one that went with the two men who saved us. He is a pretty dog,” said little Zak.

Amanda, Janie and Emily were starting to lose control of their emotions but only a little. The three female scouts were fighting back their tears.

Lydia suddenly spoke.

“Ashley, Mary, may Sandra and I brush your hair for you?” she asked softly.

“What is that?” asked the youngest girl.

The two young girl’s hair was a tangled mess.

“Would you like for your hair to look like Lynn’s?” asked Lydia pointing at the Night Ranger.

The little girls started to get excited.

“I want my hair to look like the pretty lady there,” she said pointing at Sandra.

Sandra had very short cropped blonde hair.

“If that is what you want I can make your hair look exactly like Sandra’s. What about you Mary?”

Mary looked at the female scouts and finally pointed at Lynn.

“I want my hair to look like hers. She is a pretty lady.”

“We can do that! Lynn wears her hair in what we call a ponytail.”

“I like that!”

“Doc, do you have a pair of scissors I can borrow for a little while?” asked Lydia.

Doc eased off his bench seat and went to the rear of his medical cart. He returned with a pair of scissors.

Lydia and Sandra retrieved their hair brushes and began to go to work on the young girls. While the two new scouts were brushing the young girls hair, Lynn sat down next to little Zak, who was finishing up a peanut butter cookie.

“So tell me little Zak, what do the bad men give you to eat before you go to bed?”

“Sometimes we don’t get nothing but most of the time we get biscuits and gravy.”

“That is all they give you?”

“They give us water too. Sometimes the water tastes awful and it is always hot. Sometimes it makes kids sick. I like your water. It is cold and tastes real good. What did you call these biscuits?”

“We don’t call those biscuits. We call them cookies. Doc makes them with peanut butter. You should taste one when Doc takes some freshly made cookies off the griddle. When they are just made and warm they taste real good, especially with a glass of cold milk.”

“I remember what milk is but that was when I was little.”

Lydia was cutting away with the scissors on Ashley while Sandra was making headway on Mary. Doc walked over to look at both of the young girl’s heads.

“At least I don’t see any lice. That is amazing.”

Lynn reached up to the back of her head and removed the black leather ribbon she was using to hold her ponytail in place. The words Free America were embroidered on the two foot long black ribbon.

“Here Mary, this is my favorite ribbon. You can have it for your ponytail,” she said handing the girl the ribbon.

Mary grinned broadly.

“Thank you! I have never had a ribbon. What is the white stuff on the ribbon?” she asked.

“Those are things called words. When you get to our big house we will show you a lot about words.”

Lydia was quick with the scissors.

“You cut hair very well Lydia,” said Emily.

“You learn to do that…from where I come from. Once the word spreads in the Fontainebleau Tower that you can cut hair you become very popular. I could open a beauty salon in that building and make a good living if there was such a thing as money.”

“Where do you live Lydia? Do you live with Lynn?” asked the young girl.

“Yes I do honey,” replied Lydia telling a white lie, not wanting to get in any detail with the young girl.

Sandra finished with Mary’s hair and made a fluffy pony tail using Lynn’s leather ribbon.

“Does it look good? Do I look pretty?” the young girl asked.

Sandra hugged Mary and stroked the hair on top of her head.

“You are a very pretty girl, Mary. Doc, do you have a mirror so Mary can see how pretty her ponytail looks? It is one of the finest ponytails I have ever seen.”

Doc rummaged around in his medical cabinet, moving things around while muttering to himself about how unorganized he was. Finally after a few minutes Doc had met with success and returned with a six inch mirror in his right hand. He stood in front of the blonde haired former inmate from Sin City prison, splashed some water from his canteen on the mirror’s surface and used a small paper towel to clean the reflective glass before handing it to Sandra.

Sandra held the mirror in front of Mary’s face and the young girl gazed at her reflection for a long moment with the expression of a person who was seeing her image for the first time in her life. Finally she spoke.

“I do look pretty,” she said softly while feeling the right cheek of her face with her left hand.

“You do look pretty, Mary! Your ponytail is real long like the big pretty lady!” exclaimed little Zak.

Lydia finished with Ashley’s hair and held the mirror for her. The youngest girl squealed with delight once she saw her reflective image.

“I look like Sandra!” she exclaimed hugging the former member of the Dykes for a long moment, not moving a muscle. Then she pulled away slightly, moved her little body to where her face was less than a foot away from the former inmate from Sin City prison and looked directly into Sandra’s eyes .

“Will you be my mommy?”

Now the emotions in the hardened experienced female scouts were running high bringing back a flood of memories from their past.

“We all will be your mommy Ashley,” answered Sandra, hugging the young girl and kissing the young girl’s right cheek softly.

The Night Ranger had a look of anguish on her face finding it very difficult to find her voice.

“Excuse me but I have to use the bathroom,” said Lynn suddenly.

“Me, too!” added Amanda.

Stoic, stone cold Lynn had finally reached the breaking point when dealing with her emotions. She quickly moved behind some large boulders twenty yards away from Doc’s cart to hide. Amanda quickly followed her path.

The two terriers raised their heads to watch their master retreat but did not move. Tiger and Studly stayed with the young girls…for now. The two dogs sensed that this was where they were supposed to be.

Once out of view Lynn broke down, sobbing quietly so not to alarm the kids. Amanda walked up from behind, put her arm around her shoulders and joined her. Soon, Calamity Jane and Emily joined the two. This would be the first of many group cries in the female scouts’ lives. They would remember this moment for the rest of their lives.

Lydia, Sandra, Little Jimbo and Doc stayed with the young ones having a conversation and focusing their attention on the two Jack Russell terriers while the experienced, tough, female scouts from Free America were taking a temporary leave of emotional absence.

“Damn, we are going to have to do something about this situation! Listening to those poor children about tore me up,” said Amanda, attempting to wipe away her tears.

“About tore you up? It tore all of us up! I don’t know how Lydia and Sandra could stay there without crying their eyes out! They must be pretty tough to do that,” said Janie in barely a whisper.

“We are going to have to take some action. You are gonna’ have to speak with Francis, Lynn. We have to do something,” added Emily.

“Yes, I think…I know we have to do something,” answered Lynn.

“I thought you were going to ask one more question,” said Janie, who had finally regained her composure to some degree.

“While listening to the children brought many questions to mind but I forgot any questions that I might have had. What question would that be?” asked Lynn.

“It would be nice to know how many kids are being used like that as slaves and where they are staying at FEMA camp 37 if we are going to do anything about it.”

“Oh, yes, I remember now but I don’t think that would be nice to know after what we just heard. I was going to ask that but I couldn’t handle it anymore. I will let Francis talk with the kids. He is a lot tougher than I am when it comes to bad news and bad things. Believe me, when he gets through chatting with those three children he will do something about it. I can’t imagine what big Zak’s reaction will be.”

“That’s gonna’ be real soon because Francis and the McFoster brothers are coming up the trail. It’s a damn good thing that none of us wear mascara,” said Janie, desperately wiping away her tears.

Janie didn’t want Francis to see that she had cried. Janie had a reputation for being a tough female scout that she was proud of.

It had been two hours since the scout party had seen Francis. As he and the McFoster brothers were riding up the incline to the small level plateau where Doc and his young guests were sitting an explosion could be heard in the distance. The loud explosion didn’t seem to startle the kids as much as it did Trevor and Doc.

Lynn sighed.

“I have heard that before. That is some of my husband’s handiwork in action. Someone just got killed somewhere on the Las Vegas Trail,” said Lynn trying to dry out her brown eyes.

“I think it was more than someone judging from the intensity of the blast. That was a big explosion. We should be getting in the saddles and be ready to move on. Those Hussein mounted patrols from FEMA Camp 37 we saw earlier today are only a couple of hours behind us. There were a lot of those pretend cowboys and they were moving fast in this direction,” said Emily.

Emily had given up attempting to dry out her eyes. Her cheeks had several tear streams staining her face.

Major and Sarge ran to where Lynn was standing. Immediately the two German Shepherds sensed that something was wrong with their master. They had only seen Lynn act this way one time in their lives, when Shultz was killed and Francis was shot in the FEMA camp 43 raid. The two big dogs stood stiffly in front of Lynn and had their ears perked up with a look of confusion in their eyes. Lynn knew the animals were concerned and bent over to hug both of them around their necks firmly. Both of the big dog’s tails were curled in the air, not wagging.

Francis and the McFoster brothers pulled up on their horses and stopped eyeing the four female scouts hunkered out of view from Doc’s one wheeled cart behind the large boulders.

Francis knew right away, like his German Shepherds, that something was wrong with Lynn. At first, he wasn’t sure what was going on with Lynn, Amanda, Emily and Janie.

“What’s wrong? Why are your eyes so red?” he asked while sitting on Two looking at Lynn.  He turned in his saddle and looked at Little Jimbo, Doc and the party sitting on the one wheeled cart. Doc waved back and nodded his old head indicating that every thing was fine where he was at.

Francis slowly dismounted Two, looked at his two German Shepherds once again and knew from their behavior that indeed, something wasn’t right. Then he looked at the three remaining female scouts who were his best friends and saw that their eyes were swollen and red just like his wife’s eyes. Emily still had tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You have been crying. All four of you have been crying. Why have you been crying Lynn?”

Lynn rushed to Francis and hugged him tightly. The Reaper focused his steel blue eyed gaze on Jane, Amanda and Emily, the expression he would get on his face when he was about to kill someone.

“Amanda? Have you lost the ability to speak?” he asked testily.

“You need to go have a chat with the children if we have the time. I think you will find what they have to say interesting,” she replied softly.

Another explosion could be heard to the east on the trail to Las Vegas. The second explosion was a lot louder than the last one. Suddenly, gunshots could be heard from the west, a lot of gunshots in this solemn moment playing out in the mountains of Nevada. It was a moment that people tend to remember in their lifetime.

Francis never turned his head in the direction of either of the distinct sounds. He continued to hold Lynn, stroking the back of the brown hair on her head, holding her tight while she cried softly.

“We have the time. I just made us the time,” he said softly.

He continued to hold Lynn until her sobbing subsided to where she could talk.  Another explosion could be heard from the east towards Las Vegas, This explosion was large, extremely large and much louder than the first two.

“They just keep coming and I just keep killing them,” said Francis, continuing to hold the Night Ranger.

Finally he broke his embrace with his shaken wife and gave her the handkerchief he had on his left vest pocket to dry her tears.

“You stay with Amanda, Emily and Janie. I will be right back. Major, Sarge…bewachen!”

The brown and black Shepherds took off in a full run down the trail towards Las Vegas to obey Francis’s command.

“What did you just tell the dogs to do Francis?” asked Trevor watching the big dogs tear down the trail.

“I just told them to go guard the trail behind us, just in case some enterprising young foreigner working for Homeland Security succeeds in by passing my traps on the main path. Why?”

“We need to go help them! There could be more than one foreigner! Hell, we saw hundreds of the sleaze balls coming this way! You saw them all with your binoculars Francis!” said Wiley.

“I was hoping you boys would want to do that. My four legged partners always appreciate a couple of extra hands. Stop on the trail where the dogs are. I told them earlier that was where their perimeter would be. Do you remember crossing that small creek at the bottom of that shallow valley dissecting the trail about two miles back?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Trevor, who seemed to be impatient.

“Good! Behind some rocks the size of basketballs at that creek I have a pipe bomb. It is a big pipe bomb loaded with a plastic explosive called Semtex, with a delayed fuse. Semtex is some powerful stuff.  The delayed fuse will allow a few of those Homeland Security foreigners to get across that creek before their buddies following them will be blown to bits. Here Wiley, take my AK47 and kill those goons that my bomb doesn’t kill and get their horses. We need some horses. Trevor needs a ride and we need some more guns. There will be guns, good government guns in the holsters attached to those horses. Get those horses after the explosion and we won’t find ourselves short on weapons. And make sure you are behind some boulders when those foreigners cross that creek.”

“What about the German Shepherds?”

Francis laughed.

“They know what to do. They both have done this before many times. Both of those dogs will know before you when the mounted patrol is about to cross the creek. You don’t even have to watch for the foreigners. When you see Major and Sarge drop on their bellies to the ground and flatten their ears a big boom is about to occur.”

“How come Wiley gets a rifle and I don’t? I need a rifle if I am gonna’ help Sarge and Major!” exclaimed Trevor.

“Here,” said Lynn.

She scurried over to Butch and retrieved her AK47 from her saddle.

“Take it and keep it. I have a Big X that I prefer to use anyway. Francis wired that AK47 for me.”

“Francis wired this rifle! What does that mean? Does this rifle have some type of explosive?” asked Trevor while taking the rifle.

Francis dealt with the ignorant question.

“It means it shoots straight and I made the silencer. Wiley, before you go take this black tube with you. Once you get the extra horses, if you get the chance, push the red button on the cylinder and throw it down on the trail. That is all you need to do. It will be motion sensitive ten seconds later. Just get away and get back here. We will go from there or do you fellows want me to go along with you and show you how to do this?”

Wiley took the bomb and placed it in his right saddle bag.

“And Wiley, just to let you know, I ain’t the Night Ranger. I want that AK47 back when you are through with it. It was my father’s gun but you can use it for now until we get you a replacement.”

Wiley nodded his head.

“I think we can handle this Francis,” he said.

Then the McFoster brothers took off down the trail at a slow trot.

“Damn! I think they are learning how to be a scout,” said Francis with his usual low, gruff voice while watching the two men leave.

“I noticed. They aren’t barreling down the trail in sheer panic although I think the younger McFoster wants to be hauling ass on that horse right now,” said Janie.

“We will have plenty of time once the McFoster brothers drops that pipe bomb on the trail. I will go speak with the kids,” said Francis.

“Are you sure we will have the time for that?” asked Emily.

“We have the time. I know what Francis just handed Wiley. I have several. That is a bomb with the deadliest poison we have. It will kill anything on contact and the poison lasts for a couple of hours if there is no wind. There is no wind today so he just made us some time,” said Amanda.

Francis just grinned and nodded his head yes, then went to have a chat with the small children.

* * * * *

Chapter Nine

A Sad Story

It took Wiley and Trevor ten minutes to arrive where Major and Sarge were patiently waiting for them. This part of the Las Vegas Trail was all downhill and barely wide enough for two horses to traverse side by side. The trail was lined with small Juniper pine trees on both sides along with low scrub brush growing out of ravine walls where the path on occasion dipped down into numerous desert ditches. Both men had kept their rides at a steady trot keeping a watchful eye for any large loose rocks.

Both of the German Shepherds were sitting squarely in the middle of the Las Vegas Trail, facing the east and patiently waiting. When the two men dismounted their horses the dogs eagerly trotted over to greet them. Wiley took two dog biscuits out of his left coat pocket and gave each animal a reward for doing what they were ordered to do. It took Sarge and Major less than a second to wolf down the treats.

“What are those?” asked Trevor watching his older brother.

“You gotta’ get with it little brother if you want to ride with this outfit. Those are the German Shepherds’ rewards for waiting for us to arrive at this point in the trail where Francis told them to wait. This is all a planned operation and those two dogs know it. You need to start carrying dog biscuits with you when you ride with the Reaper Crew. Ask Lynn the next time you see her. She has a big box of dog biscuits on her mule cart. That is where I got my supply of dog biscuits.”

“Why am I the last to find out everything?” grumbled the younger brother.

“You have to learn how to talk with pretty girls instead of oogling them, Trev.”

Wiley gave Trevor his riverboat gambler grin.

“I can see the creek crossing the trail. That is a good two, three hundred yard shot from here,” said Trevor.

“That is nothing for these rifles. Let’s climb up behind those boulders and wait for now, I guess. Francis said he planted a big bomb near the creek bed somewhere so we should be safe here. That is why he told the German Shepherds to stop us here. Francis has done this before, probably a hundred times.”

As the two men started to climb up the boulders Wiley turned.

“Sarge, Major….sit, stay!” he ordered while pointing at the two dogs.

The two German Shepherds sat down and looked at Wiley. He tossed them each a dog biscuit. The Shepherds caught the rewards in their mouths before they hit the ground.

“The mutts understand English!” exclaimed Trevor.

“Yeah they do. Lynn told me they understand English and German commands. She uses German so no one will know what she it telling them. We will have to learn some German little brother.”

The two brothers climbed on top of the large boulders and got into position making sure they had a good view of the mountain creek below.

“I have a clear shot where I am at. No brush, no trees, no nothing,” said Wiley.

“Me too,” echoed Trevor.

The brothers anxiously waited for ten minutes. Trevor finally spoke.

“Holy shit! Look a mile up the trail! Holy shit! There are hundreds of Hussein mounted patrol in that line and they aren’t trotting, they are at a full gallop!”

Wiley moved his scope and zeroed in on the lead members of the Hussein mounted patrol moving down the Las Vegas Trail to the west.

“Yep, from what I see looking at their faces they are foreigners just like Francis said. They are probably the types that don’t care about dying, you know Trev, the ones that will commit suicide trying to get into Heaven. We need to help them get there.”

“Swell! Shit Wiley! Maybe we should send the Shepherds to go get us some help! There are hundreds of them!”

“We ain’t doing that little brother! Francis knows what he is doing, I think. Besides, what would the girls think about that? They would be making fun us from now on out, most likely calling us little boys or something worse! Let’s just wait and do what Francis said to do.”

“Dogs! Go get Francis!” yelled Trevor looking down at the two sitting Shepherds.

The dogs continued to sit, occasionally wagging their tails across the ground.

“Now you owe them a dog biscuit Trev and you don’t have any. Great! You better get ready because the enemy is fifty yards away from the creek and they are coming fast!”

Trevor turned to look through the scope on the AK47.

Just as Francis said the first ten or twelve riders barreled across the shallow stream without any problem.

Then there was a tremendous explosion that nearly knocked the brothers off the boulders. They could feel the strong concussion wave traveling through the mountain air three hundred yards away. The blast was so strong some of the large boulders the brothers were standing moved slightly.

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Trevor covering his head with his arms.

Wiley quickly dropped down into a crouch and moved close to a big boulder on his left that offered some shelter.

Pieces of dirt and small rocks started to rain down on the brothers. The German Shepherds had quickly reacted to the massive explosion and were low on the ground with their ears flattened back on their heads and their eyes tightly closed. They had been around large explosions before.

Wiley raised his head and looked at the creek through the heavy smoke and thick cloud of dust with his scope. At first all he saw were body parts of horses and men lying in the creek bed and on both shores. Then he saw a few men and several horses start to shakily get to their feet that were on the west side of the shallow creek.

“Shoot the survivors Trev! Shoot the survivors!”

Both brothers started to squeeze the triggers on the AK47s picking off members of the Hussein patrol that were staggering to their feet. The task only took ten seconds.

“Major, Sarge…huten!” yelled Wiley pointing to the east.

“What in the hell does that mean?” yelled Trevor still searching for survivors using the scope on the AK47. He was looking for any foreigners that were rising to their feet in the area of the mountain creek.

“Francis told me to yell that after the explosion. It mean to go herd some horses!”

The two Shepherds took off in the direction of the creek.

“Stay here Trev and give me some cover. Pick off any goons that start to recover or any that come through the smoke on the trail!” he yelled.

Wiley quickly moved down the big granite boulders and jumped on his saddle without touching the ground. Spurring his borrowed horse he took off at a full gallop to the mountain creek. When he arrived there were nine horses that were uninjured and still on their feet. The two German Shepherds were nipping at their rear legs while not making a sound. The two dogs knew exactly what they were supposed to do. The nine horses started moving up the trail.

Wiley fell in behind the horses and started whipping the butts of the rear horses with a short rope in his hands. When he got to where Trevor was still located two minutes later the young man nestled in the boulders started to fire his AK47.

“Get on your horse! Let’s move it Trev! Now!”

“I’ll say! There are more suicide jockeys crossing the stream! A lot of them! It didn’t take them long to recover!”

While Trevor scrambled down the boulders Wiley pulled the black pipe bomb out of his saddle bag that Francis had given him earlier. Once Trevor was on his horse he pushed the red button on the cylinder and threw it to the ground.

“Let’s get out of here Wiley! There was a stream of Hussein mounted patrol soldiers crossing the creek. That big ass bomb only stopped them for a moment! Holy shit!”

The two men spurred their horses into a full gallop. They could see the nine horses far ahead with the two German Shepherds on their heels and no  matter how fast the brothers pushed their horses they could not narrow the gap.

“I ain’t heard another explosion Trev!” yelled Wiley.

“Neither have I but I don’t  see anyone following us!” said Trevor looking over his left shoulder.

The two men continued to ride hard for another five minutes. Ahead, they saw the nine horses standing still and Francis on Two sitting beside them. The two men pulled up quickly reining in their rides.

“They ain’t scouts yet!” yelled Calamity Jane.

“We need to get behind some boulders! There must be a couple of hundred Hussein guards coming up the trail fast!” yelled Trevor.

“Relax guys. There is no one coming up the trail at least for the next two hours,” said Francis.

Francis pulled out a thin cigar, struck a match on his saddle, and lit his smoke. He took a deep breath and blew a perfect smoke ring. There was no wind today.

Trevor and Wiley had wild looks on their faces and continued to turn in their saddles looking down the trail.

“Guys, there ain’t no one coming down that trail. Trust me, they are all dead including their horses,” said Little Jimbo.

“How is that possible?” asked Wiley.

“It’s possible because that cylinder you just dropped contained a colorless, odorless gas that will kill anything on contact for the next two hours as long as there is no wind to blow it away. If those suicide jockeys ignore their comrades and the horses falling to the ground ahead of them they will be joining them in three seconds once they ride through the gas. As ignorant as these foreigners are there will probably be a big stack of dead bodies, both men and horses, blocking the Las Vegas Trail within ten more minutes,” said the Pale Rider.

“Once we get moving and get around that bend in the trail up ahead you can use your scopes or binoculars and see for yourselves. In the meantime, give me back my horse and pick out one of those government horses to ride Trevor, unless you want to ride with Doc. While you’re at it, look on all the horses and pick out some guns. I see another AK47 on that horse there and two RPG’s that are good things to have around sometimes,” said Lynn.

Wiley dismounted Zak’s horse and walked over to the two German Shepherds. While he reached in his coat pocket Lynn spoke again.

“Uh Uh! If you are gonna’ do what I think you are about to do you better have six dog biscuits or you might get bit by the other two Shepherds and the little ones might pee on you! And don’t forget to give one each to the two little ones at the same time because they both think they are the alpha male!”

Wiley grinned, felt around in his coat pocket until he had six dog biscuits in his hand. Then he did what Lynn had told him to do. He petted each of the big dogs on their heads and then did the same to the two smaller ones.

“May I get some more dog biscuits from your mule cart?” he asked Lynn.

“You may, anytime you want. If you want to work with the dogs you will need a supply of dog biscuits,” replied the Night Ranger.

“Trev, you need to go with me and get a supply of dog biscuits too.”

Trevor dismounted Lynn’s horse and followed his brother to the Night Ranger’s mule cart. At that moment more gunshots could be heard echoing through the mountains from the west.

“I wonder what that is about, Francis?” asked Lynn.

“It is Scott and his troops clearing the trail of Hussein mounted patrols. He is supposed to clear them away to the fork to the Nightmare Trail. I got online with Zak earlier today and he told me he had ordered Scott to meet us there to escort Doc safely home with his men. You know Doc. He won’t go across the Nightmare Trail.”

“Does Zak know about the kids?” asked Amanda.

“I don’t think so. We didn’t know about the kids when I spoke with him. Did you get in touch with him Emily?”

“I haven’t been in contact with anyone. We are gonna’ have to let Zak know about the kids being used for slave labor I would think, sometime today. You know old Doc will let him know once he gets out his notebook computer.”

“You just got through speaking with the kids! What do you think Francis?” asked Lynn.

“It is a sad story I will say that. I was wanting to head north to kill my uncle this week. I think the kids threw a monkey wrench in that plan.”

“Well, things change! We are gonna’ do something about this situation first!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Okay baby. I agree.”

Then Lynn stalked off to Doc’s cart. Little Jimbo laughed.

“Francis, I think the only time you are going to get a chance to go kill your uncle is when Lynn gets pregnant again and has to quit riding those last few months!”

“Yeah, I reckon so. I am working on that.”

“You men are something else! Sex, sex, sex! That is all you think about!” exclaimed Amanda.

Little Jimbo said no more.

“The weather is good and the kids seem to be content after eating some good junk food plus we have some spare time. Let’s set up a notebook computer and let big Zak have a chat with little Zak,” said Francis.

* * * * *

Everyone but Francis and the McFoster Brothers had gathered around Doc’s cart. Emily was the one who was designated to set up the notebook computer to establish the uplink with big Zak.

“What is Francis up to Lynn?” asked Doc.

“The hell if I know. He took the McFoster brothers along with Major, Sarge, Jake and Thor with him. He left the terriers here. I think I know why he did that but I don’t know anything else.”

“You can bet he is down that trail making sure we have security. He asked me for two of my cylinders, the bad ones before he left and I know he usually carries five of those type pipe bombs with the Reaper squad. I also know Lynn has a few of those cylinders too. We have been waiting here for Zak to come to the computer for thirty minutes so we have burnt up some of our spare time. You know Francis, he never gets in a hurry,” said Little Jimbo.

“No. Since I have known him he never gets in a hurry,”  added Lynn.

“Never?” asked Janie.

The experienced female scouts laughed.

“No, my man is what you might call a slow lover,” grinned Lynn sheepishly.

“Zak’s on screen! Hi Zak,” said Emily.

Zak’s weathered old face appeared on screen.

“Hi Em. What’s up?”

“We have found out some disturbing information today. I want you to have a chat with a young boy we found today. His name is Zak.”

“What?”

“Here little Zak. Just look right here and talk with big Zak. Tell him what you told us.”

Emily turned the notebook to where the camera was on little Zak. Sandra and Lydia stayed beside the young man while Lynn, Amanda, Janie and Emily moved aside but stayed within earshot. If any of the experienced scouts started to cry again because of what little Zak might say none of them wanted the old man to see them.

Doc was sitting on his bench seat on the one wheeled cart with his notebook computer in his lap using his optical mouse and typing occasionally on his keyboard. The elderly man was dividing his attention between the young boy and his computer display.

“This will be interesting,” said Jane with a serious look on her face. The redheaded scout had known Zak for a long, long time.

“I can only imagine,” added Emily.

Big Zak and little Zak, along with the two young girls had a twenty minute conversation with the leader of the Free America movement in Nevada. Finally Lydia spoke.

“Lynn, big Zak wants to speak with you or Francis.”

Lydia had tears streaming down her cheeks. Little Zak must have told big Zak the same tale he had outlined to the four female scouts.

Lynn apprehensively sat down to an empty screen.

“Zak will be right back Lynn. He said he had to go the bathroom,” said Little Jimbo, who was sitting on his horse five feet away.

Little Jimbo had witnessed the entire conversation between Zak and the children. Jimbo was not smiling.

Two minutes later Zak sat down in front of his notebook. His eyes were red and when he spoke it sounded like he had a cold. Lynn could tell the children had the same effect on the old man that they had had on her and her three friends.

“Hi Zak, what do you want? You don’t look well. Do you have a cold?”

The Night Ranger loved to needle the old man every chance she got.

“It’s my allergies acting up. There is a lot of ragweed in the air.”

Lynn nodded her head yes and smiled letting the old man off the proverbial hook.

“Yes, there has been a lot of ragweed in the air around here too, especially this afternoon. What do you want? Francis is down the trail attending to business and buying us some additional time. What do you want us to do with the children?”

“Do you mean those three special kids or the ones back in the portable buildings?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. You are the one who is supposed to be making important decisions for the scouts.”

“Yeah I know. How far away are you from the Nightmare Trail?”

“It is still a two, three hour ride from where we are now.”

“I see. With Francis that means six hours. Data is online with Doc right now. Take the children to the fork to the Nightmare Trail. Scott and a lot of his scouts should be finished up by then. They have been busy, like you guys, today.”

“We know. We heard Scott and his men to the west today.”

“Ringo and his scouts are still in Northern Arizona. I will order him to head your way tomorrow morning. Today meet up with Scott when you can. Have the kids go along with Doc to the base. Scott will assign a hundred scouts to escort them. When you meet up with Scott get back in touch with me. That will give me some time to think this out, although I think Francis and Doc already have been kicking around a plan. How many scout candidates are you bringing with the Reaper Crew on this ride?”

“None. The two ladies from Sin City already know how to fight. The two new males are experienced soldiers from Texas and are childhood friends of Francis’s. We might have to take a look in the armory soon for some ammo and weapons when we get to one of our armories but that is all. We have already acquired some government horses and weapons a little while ago so that is a help.”

“If you say so then I believe you Lynn. So…are we talking about taking the shortcut?”

“I think so. It depends on how fast you want to act on this. We could also take the long way home and back…”

“No, no, no…you do whatever you think we should do. We need to do something pretty quick. We can’t let this go on for nine more months until FEMA camp 37 is finished.”

“Okay Zak. Me and the girls agree. I will tell Francis and have him get in contact with you when we get to the fork for the Nightmare Trail. I will try to get him to call.”

“Try! Try? You tell that wild scout…”

Lynn slowly closed the lid on the notebook computer severing the communication.

“Amanda does the same thing on Zak all the time,” said Little Jimbo laughing.

“You should have pressed him more on why his eyes were swollen and red,” added Jane.

“No. I know he went off screen to cry. I never thought Zak would do that. He always acts so tough, so cold,” said Lynn.

“And like a total asshole sometimes,” added Amanda.

“That too! If you and Little Jimbo started to travel with German Shepherds you would find that Zak doesn’t act like that, at least in person. Just over the computer uplink.”

“It couldn’t be better timing. I see Francis, the McFoster brothers and the dogs coming up the trail. As usual, Francis doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. Neither are the dogs. I reckon we don’t have to worry about the Hussein mounted patrol for a little while longer,” said Little Jimbo.

Francis and his friends stopped in back of Doc’s cart. Francis walked up to the youngest girl and picked her up, holding her on his hip.

“I bet you don’t know what a Snickers bar is, do you?”

The young girl shook her head no.

Francis reached into his right coat pocket and produced an actual Snicker bar.

“Open that and take a bite. It is good just like a peanut butter cookie. Do you two want to try a Snickers bar?” he asked looking directly at the two other children.

The young boy and girl both eagerly nodded their heads yes. These strangers, whoever they were, had a good food.

“This is real good mister!” exclaimed young Ashley.

“I told you it would be.”

Francis handed a Snickers bar to each of the kids on the cart. Then he set young Ashley back down next to her sister.

“Tonight I am going to introduce you to my Uncle Scott. He is a big, funny man, much like old Doc here. Doc and Uncle Scott will take you to our big house where there are a lot of nice men and women. And there are children running around just like you. They are riding horses, taking care of little dogs and going to school everyday. They are happy, eating good food and having fun. You will too but tomorrow morning me and my friends are going to have to leave.”

“I don’t want you to go mister!” said Zak.

“Well, I have to go, Zak! Old Zak wants me to go get your friends back at FEMA Camp 37.”

“For real! That would be great! I have a lot of friends in building one zero!”

“I promise you I will get every one of them. One of these days you will see your friends again.”

Lynn was starting to cry…again. She knew her man well.

“All right, let’s get moving! We have six hours of safety so we should make it to the meet up point with Uncle Scott!”

As Francis turned to mount Two, Lynn moved in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a long, passionate kiss on his lips. Francis wrapped his arms around her.

Little Jimbo turned to face the McFoster brothers.

“You boys just hang around with Francis and me for awhile. You will learn what it takes to keep a pretty scout happy. Ain’t that right baby?” he said turning to Amanda.

“I love you Jimbo. You know that.”

“Get a tent you two! Let’s get moving!” yelled Doc flipping the reins on his horse.

Two hours later, a record time for the Reaper crew, they were at the fork to the Nightmare Trail. Scott was waiting for their arrival with five hundred heavily armed men. Those were the scouts that could be seen. There were many more of Scott’s scouts hidden in the woods in the near mountains that guarded the entrance to the Nightmare Trail.

During the trip, there were no explosions but trip wire alarms Francis had left on the trail went off twice along with his deadly bombs of colorless, odorless poison. The Hussein mounted patrols were slowly and persistently closing in. There were far more Hussein soldiers in hot pursuit than what had been seen by the McFoster brothers earlier in the day.

* * * * *

Chapter Ten

Scott and the Pneumatic Bow

There was still four hours of Nevada daylight left when the Reaper and his crew hooked up with the scout known as Scott the Liberator and his men where the Nightmare Trail merged with the Las Vegas Trail. It was a brief, but joyous, occasion because there was still work to be done.

“Francis, it has been a while! You are looking well since the last time I saw you being loaded on a helicopter along with Doc at Fort Schultz! You are looking good, real good!” exclaimed Scott shaking the Reaper’s hand.

The big man then went to each of the scouts, shaking Little Jimbo’s hand, hugging his female scout friends, especially Amanda and introducing himself to the McFoster brothers.

“Yeah, that has been a while ago. How are things going in Northern Nevada? We haven’t stayed in touch that much since then and I have been busy since climbing back in the saddle,” said Francis.

“Things are going great! The Javier Ranch is an active base of operations for Free America and we are raising hell in the western part of the state. Fort Schultz and its citizens are kicking ass, getting me what I need and when I need it to fight the war. Plus they are churning out scout candidates for training every day. I hear there is still a big problem in Las Vegas, like the rebuilding of FEMA camp 37…for the third time. The government never does learn does it?”

“There always seems to be a problem in Las Vegas. This time Free America is gonna’ put an end to it. I am getting tired of making the long trip to Las Vegas because Homeland Security is too stupid to leave Nevada. We have some friends now in Las Vegas that are going to help us put a stop to that.”

“Oh really? And who might that be?” asked Scott.

“Sandra! Lydia! Would you two please come over here and meet a good friend of mine?” asked Francis.

The two former inmates of Sin City prison strolled over to where Scott and Francis were standing. Scott’s eyes grew wide and a smile broke out on his rugged, tanned face when he first saw Lydia and Sandra. His jaw dropped open for a brief moment when the two women moved to stand directly in front of him.

“Good lord Francis! How is it that you always have good looking women hanging around whenever I meet up with you and I can’t find one decent looking women in the entire state of Nevada that wants to ride with me?”

“I already have a great, good looking woman and you know her so you better watch what you say old friend! She has friends, wicked four legged friends that are pretty crazy about her and not real fond of men. This is Lydia and Sandra, former occupants of Sin City prison. They have joined Free America now to help us fight this war. Ladies, this is Scott, also known as the Liberator, the best friend you can have in these hard times and especially handy if you find yourself in a fight. He and his scouts have been kicking ass in the northwest part of the country for four years now and sometimes down here in southern Nevada.”

The two women shook hands with the big man. The social instincts in the big man started to emerge.

“Maybe when this war is over we can go out to dinner one night, say, in Rochester? Isn’t that the place you recommend, Francis? I promise I will pick up the tab for everyone.”

“That’s pretty funny big man,” answered Francis.

“What was so funny about that?” asked Lydia.

“The last time Francis took Lynn, Emily and Janie out to dinner he wound up burning the entire town to the ground. When you go to dinner with the Reaper and his crew, sometimes there is no tab to pick up. There are reports in the Sierras that Francis is one hot date,” answered Scott.

Scott and many of his men laughed.

Lydia and Sandra looked at Francis to see his reaction. Francis, as usual, had a serious expression on his face but said nothing.

“No wonder the Night Ranger loves you so much. No man has ever done that for me,” replied Lydia with a slight smile on her face.

“That’s pretty funny too. Scott. We have thirty minutes to chit chat. In a couple of hours a stream of Hussein suicide jockeys will be coming down the Las Vegas Trail so we should get the welcome wagon ready. We need to get the three kids far away from here. I am going to have Little Jimbo blow the trail and we are going to make a stand here. Besides, my squad needs to relieve some pressure and have some fun. It has been a stressful ride for everyone since we got on the Las Vegas Trail.”

“Not Little Jimbo! Again! Me and my men have cleared this trail twice in the past few years because of him and his explosives!”

“Then you will find yourself clearing the trail for a third time. We are going to block the Las Vegas trail and kill every Hussein guard that comes up that trail,” answered Francis calmly.

Scott glared at Little Jimbo and Jimbo just smiled. The two men were good friends but Scott knew to attempt to change any decision Francis had made would do him no good. Jimbo knew that too. Jimbo also knew that he wouldn’t be the one to clear the trail in the future.

“It sounds good to me. We have killed more than two hundred guardsmen today just getting here to meet up with you. You need any help with the Hussein mounted patrol?” asked Scott.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. The girls are fairly pissed off today about what has happened to the three kids and are itching for a fight. I know they can easily handle the government shit heads headed this way.”

“Why don’t I leave a hundred men with you to be on the safe side? Besides, if there are that many government goons coming this way I could use some more horses and guns. Do you think you could get Janie, Em and Lynn to just kill the men and not the horses?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. It is hard to target something with a gun that fires seven hundred and fifty rounds a minute. I have two new guys that are good shots with AK47s so they may be able to get you a few uninjured horses in the course of the battle. Assign your men, place them in the nearby woods and we will pick off the first arrivals for awhile but if it gets into a big gunfight I am going to turn those three women loose with their chain guns.”

“What about you two? Do you have any weapons? What are those white tubes on your backs?” asked Scott staring at Lydia and Sandra.

“Show him the pneumatic bow Lydia,” said Francis.

Lydia was surprised by this request but felt a sense of satisfaction and pride. She slowly removed the pneumatic bow and held it in her hands.

“What do you want me to shoot Francis?”

“I don’t know. Scott is a nice big, slow moving target but we need him for now. Pick a target down the trail, something that arrow will stick in.”

Lydia surveyed the Las Vegas Trail to the east.

“I see a tree stump down the trail on the right.”

Scott held his right hand to his forehead to block the bright sun and squinted his eyes gazing east down the Las Vegas Trail.

“Where? All I see are Juniper trees!”

“Down the trail on the right around one hundred and eighty yards I reckon. You can’t see that stump? Do you wear glasses?” asked Lydia.

Scott picked up his AK47 and peered through his scope.

“Are you speaking of the tree stump with two small green branches growing out of the trunk on its right side?”

Lydia looked at Scott with puzzlement.

“I don’t know what tree stump you are looking at big man. I only see one on the right and there is a small green branch growing out of its side on the left, into the trail.”

Scott lowered his assault rifle.

“Damn, besides having very pretty eyes you have good eyes. I was just teasing you. I see the stump. That is one hell of a long shot for a rifle, let alone a puny arrow.”

“Quit fucking around Scott and watch. I saw this woman take out a chopper pilot that was hovering five to six hundred yards away with that white tube. She put her arrow right through the pilot’s neck. I don’t think it was a lucky shot,” said Francis.

Lydia turned a small black knob on the trunk of her pneumatic bow.

“What is that young lady?” asked Scott.

“It is my pressure adjustment. I moved it to two. I don’t need to be wasting my compressed air. I have no way of refilling my bow out here unless you have a strong air compressor or you have the ability to give my bow a strong blow job,” she answered smugly.

Lydia’s comment took Scott by surprise. He knew then he was dealing with a very assertive female. Francis stepped in.

“Lydia and Sandra have had a lot of experience dealing with smart ass men Scott. They have been killing them for quite a while now.”

Scott smiled and then laughed.

“I stand corrected young, pretty lady. Show me what your weapon can do.”

Lydia lifted the bow to where it was level with her eyes. She steadied herself for a brief moment then pulled the trigger. A small brief hiss erupted from the bow as the arrow shot out of the PVC tube and streaked down the Las Vegas Trail.

Scott raised his rifle once again and used his scope.

“That is unbelievable! That arrow hit dead center on that tree stump and you could barely hear it being used. Where did you get a weapon like that?”

“Lydia used to be a member of a female gang in Sin City prison. All of the gang members carried the pneumatic bow. I thought it looked cheesy until I saw it in action. It is, by any definition, a deadly, silent and effective weapon,” said Francis.

“Hell, I want one. Actually, I wouldn’t mind having a hundred for my men. There are a lot of times when we need to knock off a guard or sentry quietly. Silencers on the pistols and rifles are not as quiet as Lydia’s weapon. I am impressed!”

“That’s what I thought when I saw it being used, too. We are going to need a bunch of them soon,” added Francis.

Lynn and Amanda had been watching the demonstration by Lydia along with Little Jimbo and nodded their heads to give Lydia approval.

“It would be a great weapon for a single kill,” added Scott.

“I can kill more than one man at a time with my bow,” said Lydia nonchalantly.

“With that contraption? After one shot, and if there were two or three men, you would be shot young lady. You would have to take the time to reload,” stated Scott.

“Not really. I only worry when there are more than eight men.”

“You are kidding me, right?” asked Scott.

“No, I never kid anyone when it comes to killing.”

“I would like to see that!”

“If I do that I will be defenseless out here. I will be low or out of compressed air.”

“Larry!” yelled Scott.

Larry was Scott’s right hand man and had been riding with him for three years now.

“Yes sir!” snapped Larry.

“Hold on a second Larry. How would you like to have your own AK47 with a fifty round drum and a silencer?” asked Scott focusing his attention on the pretty blonde carrying the pneumatic bow.

“You can keep your weapon. I will keep mine. It is not up for any trade.”

“No, I meant how would you like to have an AK47 assault rifle with a fifty round drum and a hi tech silencer with optical scope if you just demonstrate your weapon for me?”

Lydia looked at Francis and he was nodding his head yes. Doc was standing nearby and spoke.

“You will be able to recharge your bow in a day or two Lydia. In fact, in two days you will have a brand new bow that I think you and Sandra will be very happy with. I sent some designs to Data earlier today based on your weapon. My techs are working on the design right now. Can you imagine a carbon graphite machine that will fire twenty arrows quickly, like a machine gun, that makes no noise and can be reloaded with air in less than three seconds?” asked Doc.

Lydia and Sandra looked at each other with skeptical looks.

“That is impossible. It takes five minutes to charge the air container on our bows,” replied Lydia.

“I bet it does. This bow will use compressed CO2 cylinders. All you have to do is remove the empty cylinder and jam in the new one, close the door and fasten a latch. Plus, the power will be greatly enhanced. Think about what I am offering but I bet in two days I can have a weapon like that in your hands,” said Doc.

“What would you want in exchange?” asked Sandra.

Doc laughed long and hard.

“Well, my imagination runs wild with that question but I am too old now days. A thank you would be nice.”

“Okay you have a deal. I will take the rifle now,” stated Lydia.

Scott looked at the pretty blonde. At first he hesitated to hand over the AK47 but he finally did after looking at Francis. Francis was, once again, nodding his head yes.

Lydia took the assault rifle and handed it to Sandra, then she retrieved a flat piece of  heavy duty plastic out of her backpack. She fastened the plastic to the top of the pneumatic bow. The flat plastic resembled an old fashioned paper feeder that was to be found on computer printers from years ago. Then she placed seven aluminum bows in the tray and loaded an arrow into the bow.

“What should I shoot? You big man?” she asked with a wicked smile.

“If you did that we couldn’t go out on a dinner date after this war is over. How about that log lying next to the trail one hundred feet away?” asked Scott pointing at a fallen tree lying alongside the Las Vegas Trail.

Lydia quickly turned where she stood and as fast as a person could count to eight, eight aluminum arrows streaked out of her pneumatic bow and were deeply embedded into the wood log one hundred feet away from where everyone stood. The demonstration was silent and quick.

Lydia looked at a small pressure gauge on her weapon.

“I still have enough compressed air for eight more short shots…maybe.”

“Wow! That was cool Lydia! Larry, get another AK47 for Sandra to carry! That show was worth the price of two admissions!” exclaimed Scott.

Larry scrambled away while Lydia walked over to the log and retrieved her eight arrows. She took a big knife that was hanging from a belt around her waist to cut out the arrows. She returned at the same time Larry returned with an assault rifle for Sandra.

“Here are two extra drums ma’am and some boxes of ammo,” said the flustered Larry handing the AK47 to the former Sin City inmate.

Sandra stepped forward, took the heavy gun and accessories from Larry. Then the pretty blonde planted a kiss on his right cheek.

“Thank you Larry,” she said with a soft, sexy voice and a big smile.

Once Sandra completed her thank you, Larry turned and quickly scooted away.

“Thanks a lot Sandra! I just got him to where he could remember three things that I would tell him to do. He won’t be worth a shit for the next two weeks!” exclaimed Scott watching Larry scoot away quickly.

“All right, the party is over. We need to get organized Scott. Take Doc and the kids one mile north of here and wait. Tell them all the loud sounds they will be hearing is just noise. Go there and wait for me. We will be getting some company in an hour or later. I have a surprise for everyone later,” said Francis.

“What is that? Do you have a surprise for the Hussein Guard, Francis?” asked Scott suspiciously.

Scott knew of the Reaper’s reputation and what he had done in his past.

“Hell no. I could care less about those fuckers. This is a surprise for Lynn and she has earned it. But for now, I want the kids to be a mile north of here because it is gonna’ get wild when the Hussein Guard shows up.  They don’t need to be frightened by all the gunfire.”

“Okay, you got it. Doc, get that one wheeled cart moving! When we get up the trail I will send you one hundred scouts to report to you. You place them where you want to in the woods and the rest of my boys will be minutes away in case you need them.”

“Thanks big man. Send me your one hundred best scouts. My girls will teach them how to fight like men.”

Scott mounted his horse, tipped his hat to the scouts standing on the ground and took off after Doc.

Francis went to where his scouts had moved after the show by Lydia and were sitting around a campfire, drinking coffee. Emily had built the fire and made the coffee for a brief respite before the arrival of the Hussein mounted patrol moving west on the Las Vegas Trail to confront the band of scouts. The McFoster brothers were acting nervous but were trying to relax with their cups of coffee sitting on two small boulders like the experienced scouts were relaxing. Lydia and Sandra acted like they had done this routine before.

“There is nothing like a good cup of coffee to amp you up before a fight. I am going down the trail a little ways. Jimbo, you have some dynamite ready to blow the trail?”

“I have two charges right here in my hand. You just tell me when Francis,” answered Jimbo.

Francis looked up to see an over hanging ledge one hundred feet above on the side of the mountain to the north of the Las Vegas Trail.

“That ledge jutting out over the trail was the result of your last effort. Do you think you can bring it down on the trail without bringing down the rest of the mountain this time?” asked Francis.

“You know I can.”

“Oh brother Jimbo!  Francis is talking about just the ledge now and not you blowing up the whole damn mountain like you did last time. Just make sure everyone is up the trail a hundred yards or so Francis. I remember the first time you blew up the trail Jimbo, when I was freed from FEMA Camp 37,” said Amanda.

“Yeah, but we weren’t lovers then and Zak told me that I did a good job when I blew the trail the first time! I have gotten a lot better the past four years at being an explosive young man,” answered Jimbo.

The female scouts laughed at Jimbo’s statement. Even Amanda laughed but she was shaking her head. She knew her man.

“Lynn, Amanda, you ladies are fully stocked aren’t you?” asked Francis.

Lynn walked up to the cart her mule Betty was pulling and opened a large canvas bag. It was full of black cylinders and boxes.

“I tripled what we carried last. I have plenty of poison pipe bombs and explosives, all sizes.”

“I doubled what me and Jimbo usually carry and we haven’t blown up anything this month. This has sure been a slow month for us,” added Amanda.

“Good, good. I will be running low by the time I get back with my supply. Wiley, Trevor… I want you two to help Jimbo place his explosives. Me and the dogs will be back in fifteen minutes. All hell is about to break loose in an hour.”

“Baby, may I take Sandra up to that high ridge on the left with my Big X chain gun, her new AK47 and her pneumatic bow so she can gain some experience? After all, you know that whoever has the high ground has the advantage!” asked Lynn.

“Well, sure, if that is want you want to do lover. Do you think you and Sandra can get up on that plateau in an hour? That is a pretty good ways away and that mountain is steep. I don’t think you can take a horse ride up there, at least from this side of the mountain.”

“I believe we can get up there. I wasn’t going by horse baby. I was planning to go on foot. Your pneumatic bow is fully charged, right Sandra?”

“I haven’t fired it once since I left Sin City prison.”

“Later, baby,” said Lynn.

She grabbed her chain gun, her canvas bag full of extra drums, and one of the canvas bags containing the pipe bombs that she had just shown Francis.

Before Francis could ask a single question Jane stepped in front of him.

“Baby, may I take Emily up to that high ridge on the right with my Big X chain gun so she can gain some experience? She hasn’t shot the gun that much since she was shot in the shoulder. You remember that don’t you honey bunch?”

Lynn and Sandra were climbing up the foot trail on the left. When Lynn heard what Jane said she stopped and looked down on Francis and Janie, Then the Night Ranger laughed. She turned and continued to climb while Sandra followed in her footsteps.

“I think you girls have been talking way too much with each other. That /high ground on the right would be a good place to get those suicide jockeys in a crossfire from high. Go ahead but that is long ways from here.”

“We know a trail honey bunch, a secret trail,” said Emily teasing Francis.

Both female scouts mounted their horses and took off in the woods to the right, laughing their heads off.

Wiley stepped in front of Francis.

“Baby, may I take Lydia up to those boulders and…”

“Shut up Wiley! I have enough smart asses around here. Everyone wait right here for now unless you do what I told you and Trevor to do, go help Jimbo mount his explosives.”

Wiley looked at Jimbo, who was sitting on his horse smoking a cigarette.

“Get on your horses and let’s go fellows. It is just a short ride. Say Wiley, are you going to ask Zak if you can keep his horse, saddle and guns the next time you see him?” asked Jimbo.

“I ain’t saying a word. All he left me was a squirrel gun in the holster but I sure like the horse and saddle. He is gonna’ have to ask for the horse back,” replied Wiley.

“Damn Wiley. Francis told me you were real smart. I think he might be right.”

Little Jimbo took off up the Nightmare Trail, which by any definition, was a steep trail. Wiley and Trevor spurred their horses, leaned forward in their stirrups, and followed.

“So what am I gonna’ do Francis?” asked Lydia.

Francis pulled a cigar out of his inner coat pocket, struck a match on a rock and lit his smoke.

“Would you like a cigar?” he asked.

Lydia pulled the same cigar out of her vest pocket. She lit her cigar off Francis’s fire.

“You gotta’ be careful. These things get addictive. We are gonna’ stay right here until Jimbo returns. Then whatever he brings down with his explosives, which will be interesting because it always is, we are going to get behind whatever it is and kill Hussein mounted patrols coming down that trail. That will be me, you, the McFoster brothers, little Jimbo and the Pale Rider. That is a pretty good line up but I fear it won’t be enough. In the hills and trees behind us is one hundred of Scott’s men. If it looks like we are going down, they will open up with all their firepower, including a lot of missiles. What we have to worry about, is rocket propelled grenades fired by the Hussein Guard. Those things are nasty, even when you are behind a big boulder. You probably should grab a few extra drums of ammo for that AK47 Scott just gave you. That was a nice gesture. Those are great assault rifles and hard to come by these days.”

“This gun is heavy, real heavy,” replied Lydia.

“I imagine it is when you compare it to your pneumatic gun. I have shown you how to cock it but we don’t have the time to fire it now. It is loud, the enemy would hear it and it may give our ambush away. Jimbo’s loud explosion the Hussein guardsmen will expect because they know we blocked this trail twice before at this same point and they know we will try to block the trail again.  Just remember when you fire an AK47 you have to hold on to it tightly, because the damn thing kicks hard. But if that bullet hits anything it is gonna do some serious damage so try to hit something with each shot. Just don’t hold the weapon and pull the trigger aiming wildly without sighting your target. Over time you will learn how to aim it.”

“So the drum has fifty shots?”

“Yes.”

“And the weapon you call the Big X has how many shots?”

“Seven hundred and fifty. It is a pain in the ass to set up the drum but it is a fun thing to turn loose on the enemy. If you want, you may have a Big X once we get to one of our armories. When you are a scout you get to choose the weapon you want to carry, if one is available that you want.”

“No. I will stay with this gun for now. Is Lynn effective with the Big X?”

“Both her and Janie are. One night they killed four hundred enemy soldiers and bounty hunters in less than a minute with two of those guns. Then they burned down a big wooden ranch house with a couple of the rocket propelled grenades I was just telling you about.  We want to stop the government goons before they fire any of the rocket propelled grenades and the suicide jockeys are into that weapon. Almost every Hussein guardsman has a rocket propelled grenade holstered on his saddle. These people are basically insane and they are here to get rich, to collect the one million government credits  the president has offered for any scout’s body, dead or alive. Talk about being an asshole.”

Lydia looked like she was deep in thought. Finally she spoke.

“Yeah, I think I want a weapon like that. I really like your wife, Amanda, Janie and Emily. They don’t seem like the killer types to me.”

“No they don’t. One of these days when we are sitting around the campfire passing a bottle of Jack Daniels I will get them to talking about the time we went to Rochester for a steak dinner. It is a funny story. After you hear that story, you will find out if you still think those girls are what you call the killer types or not.”

Little Jimbo and the McFosters came trotting up the trail on their horses.

“We are ready to blow the ledge Francis,” reported Little Jimbo.

Francis gave Jimbo one of his more serious looks.

“You sure you have the dynamite figured right this time?”

“I am sure. I even took out a measurement laser and used it to measure the mass of the ledge.”

“How did you do that? I didn’t see you climb up there to see how thick the ledge actually was or use the laser.”

“Uh, no. It would take me a long time to climb up there to do that but I made a good educated guess by aiming the laser at the ledge.”

“How did you do that?”

“I looked at the shadow the ledge was casting on the wall of the mountain! Then I had Trevor hold the laser while I used a tape measure. Wiley did the math and his calculations gave me the amount of Semtex I needed to use!”

“Wiley did the math?” asked Francis looking at Wiley with one of his more crueler stares.

“Hey, I know my timeses!” exclaimed Wiley.

“Your what?” asked Amanda suspiciously.

“You know! Like two times two equals four, three times three equals…”

“Never mind! Francis!” yelled Amanda.

Francis paused and took a deep breath. He looked up the trail to see Scott and several of his men watching.

“Okay Jimbo, it is show time. The first thing we need to do is get all our horses, mules and wagons up to the plateau at the entrance to the Passageway of Faith and secure the animals. The German Shepherds and runts will help us with that. We don’t want them on this side of the trail if you are wrong on your guesstimate. It will take us days to clear the Las Vegas Trail, like it has taken us days to clear it before because of your miscalculations. You are supposed to be the dynamite expert.”

“Hey, lighten up on my man. At least he has always blocked the trail when it counted,” said Amanda.

“Yes he has. He is very, very good at that.”

Then Amanda and Francis both started to laugh, hard. Jimbo finally joined them.

The scouts got the items they would need once the boulder or boulders fell onto the trail and moved away from the projected landing area. Jimbo took out a black box, the same black box he had used twice before to detonate his dynamite in the past.

“Okay everybody. No guts, no glory,” said Jimbo.

Jimbo pressed the red button. There was, surprisingly, a muffled, muted blast which surprised Francis. Everyone looked up at the ledge. At first it did not move but Francis could see a long, dark crack under its base, where Jimbo had placed his dynamite charges. Then the ledge moved a little. Finally there was a loud cracking sound and a triangular piece of granite fell point first into the hard Nevada ground. The point of the large rock fell directly in the center of the Las Vegas Trail, with the wide ends protruding out from the center. God couldn’t have placed the rock any more perfectly.

Jimbo was elated.

“Did you see that? Did you see that? Look! There ain’t even any dust! It looked like God caught that big rock in mid air, flipped it over and shoved it down right in the center of the Las Vegas Trail! Me and God got it right that time!” he yelled pumping his right fist in the air.

He ran up the incline of the mountain on his left and started to get really excited.

“Look at this! There is a six foot wide ledge running the entire length of the rock that is four feet below the break! Watch!”

Then Jimbo ran the entire length of the massive rock.

“It’s like being inside a fort when the Indians attack!”

“You ain’t never been inside any fort when some Indians attacked!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I know, but this is what it would be like if you were in a fort! Come on up here and look at this ledge! It is as smooth as a sidewalk.”

Soon everyone was standing on the ledge of the big rock.

“You gotta’ admit, this is pretty cool. We are forty feet above the trail and have twenty feet of solid granite between us and any enemy lead. Good job Jimbo!” said Francis.

Amanda gave her man a big kiss. Jimbo found that the saying the third time is a charm was true.

* * * * *

Chapter Eleven

Jimbo’s Rock

An hour had passed since Little Jimbo had brought down the ledge to block the Las Vegas Trail. Francis, Jimbo, Amanda, Lydia and the McFoster brothers were standing on the ledge on the backside of the boulder, waiting. They had the weapons they thought they would need. Scott and his men were hidden in the nearby woods and boulders, locked and loaded. They were going to watch and stay in reserve unless they were needed. Francis had a prearranged signal with Scott. If the signal was given to get some help the Liberator’s troops would join the battle. This plan was at the insistence of Scott and the old man Zak. Francis felt like they were wasting their time, babysitting the Reaper crew. He knew that the Hussein Guard was far overmatched but he said nothing. He felt this would be a good lesson for Scott. The Liberator had never seen the fury of Francis’s girls first hand. The addition of the McFoster brothers was just cream on the pie.

“I can see them cresting the prior mountain ridge! There most be at least four hundred men on horses!” exclaimed Trevor using Amanda’s high powered binoculars.

“That sounds about right. They dispatch groups of eight hundred riders when the conflict is close to their headquarters. That means we have already killed half of them. I am hoping once they see this big rock blocking the trail they will turn around and go home to Las Vegas,” responded Francis.

“Don’t you want to kill them? They are the ones fucking with the little kids!” added Wiley.

“I do but killing them in the flat area down this trail is gonna’ stink up this area for months on end and attract all kinds of scavengers. I’m not piling up the bodies of their men and horses to burn. We don’t have the extra kerosene and it is a waste of time. In six months all you will see down there will be a bunch of skeletons of horses and men if there is a fight. The desert takes them but it takes a while, a long, stinking while.”

“I never thought of that,” said Wiley.

“Wait until you get the chance to travel the Javier Trail. The Pale Rider has renamed it the Stinky Trail and that trail is two hundred miles of stench right now. Scott and his men just came down that trail to meet us. It is probably worse now.”

“Well, we should kill them anyway!” exclaimed Trevor.

“I reckon that will happen Trev. I am not in control now. The female scouts are running this show.”

“That means you will fulfill your desire to kill them anyway young Trevor. I know three of those women well on the high ground and they are mad about the kids. Watch and see,” said Amanda.

Trevor and Wiley noticed the Pale Rider had a strange grin on her face. So did Little Jimbo.

During the hour wait the scouts on the rock ledge had piled up smaller rocks on the large table like surface of the boulder Jimbo had dislodged to provide more cover. Military people referred to stacks of material like this as sniper blinds.

“When they pop out of the narrow part of the trail down that ridge they might stop and spread out in that flat area once they see this big rock. Hold your fire for a while and stay out of sight. Let them pour into that open area for easy kills,” ordered Francis.

“And try to pick off the riders! Don’t shoot the horses unless we perceive a need!” added Jimbo.

Francis laughed, which he rarely did.

“Jimbo, you are the optimist eternal. It is difficult to pick off a rider from high above without wounding the horse with a gun that shoots seven hundred and fifty rounds a minute. I don’t know how those girls manage to hang onto the Big X’s, anyway.”

“Well, if we pick off the nearest riders real quick maybe the three of them won’t find it necessary to fire at the front of the pack! I hate seeing good horse flesh going to waste!”

Lydia, Francis, Jimbo, Amanda and McFoster brothers scrunched down out of sight behind their piles of rock and waited. Each scout could see out of a small opening they had built into each pile of rock.

In the distance the scouts could hear the thunder of hooves pounding the Las Vegas Trail. The sound was growing louder.

Soon, men dressed in black fancy riding suits with ornate, emblazoned gold insignias on their chests, legs and arms burst out of the narrow tree lined path of the Las Vegas Trail into the open. The front runners of the column of the Hussein mounted  patrol did what Francis had said they would do. They moved their horses to each side of the trail in the flat area to regroup once they saw the big boulder blocking their way. A hundred more riders poured into the open for a half a minute until the column was finally brought to a halt.

“Looks like they are talking about it,” said Francis.

“Uh oh! They are sending two men up here to check it out!” hissed Trevor.

“Wait, wait until they get close and stay down. I think they might decide to…”

Francis didn’t get a chance to complete his sentence. He looked up just in time to see seven or eight flying objects arching high in the blue Nevada sky to land down the trail behind the Hussein guardsmen bunched up in the flat area. Then all hell broke loose.

There were seven or eight violent explosions in the heavy woods on the Las Vegas Trail. At the same time three loud bursts of gunfire erupted from high overhead, one on the left and two on the right. Lynn, Jane and Emily were firing their Big X chain guns. Horses and men started to fall to the desert ground in large groups.

Francis did not need to give an order. The scouts on the rock ledge opened up with their AK47s, filling the Las Vegas Trail with lead. The female scouts on the high ground continued to fire with the chain guns for a full minute, emptying their seven hundred and fifty round drums. There was a brief pause in the battle and then the sound of the Big X’s started to fill the air again. To complement this, another volley of eight arrows with attached explosives rained down on the trail where the trees bordered each side with devastating results. In two minutes the sound of machines firing lead ceased. The only thing that could be heard was the hurtful cries of horses and men.

Francis had not fired a single shot.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad! I see maybe fifty horses running around!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

Francis looked up to the high ground on both sides of the trail but saw no one. He took a hand held radio out of his coat pocket.

“Scott, there are fifty or sixty horses running around loose up here with no riders. If you want the horses, saddles and weapons get some men up here for clean up. If not I am going to turn loose the Pale Rider to clean up. We are going back down that trail as soon as possible before the place begins to stink to high Heaven.”

A voice sounded out of the tiny speaker.

“We will take care of that. I need the horses and guns. That was a hell of a show Francis.”

Francis placed the radio back in his pocket.

“Yes it was,” he said softly while lighting one of his thin cigars.

“Those explosive arrows were something else! Sandra did good!” exclaimed Wiley.

Everyone was still crouched down behind their sniper blinds. They knew there was a possibility of someone surviving the onslaught of death that had rained down from above and if they did, they would be crazy not to be heading at a full gallop to Las Vegas.

“I wish I had arrows like that in Sin City prison!” exclaimed Lydia.

“Young lady, I think with Doc and Lynn your wish is about to be granted,” answered Amanda.

As the Reaper crew was standing on the large displaced boulder a hundred scouts from Scott’s army started to emerge from the surrounding area, with their guns drawn at the ready.

Francis and his squadron watched as the Liberator’s men started to methodically move through the carnage. Several of the scouts mounted the frightened, surviving government horses immediately while others started to slowly move up the trail to Las Vegas. Others started to perform the task of putting wounded horses and men out of their misery. It was difficult to see the movements of the scouts because of all the dust and smoke that had been generated by Sandra’s arrows and the powerful pipe bombs Lynn had attached to them but the frequent sound of pistols fired at point blank range permeated the air.

Calamity Jane and Emily emerged from the woods on the right on their horses and made their way to the east side of the displaced boulder sitting on the Las Vegas Trail.

Both women had serious looks on their faces.

“That wasn’t that bad. Now we will have to take two hours reloading the two spent drums but it was worth it,” said Jane.

Emily nodded her head in agreement. Both women were holding their chain guns wearing heavy duty gloves. The barrels on both weapons were still smoking.

Scott rode up on his horse carrying a canvas bag.

“Here. There are six fully loaded drums for your rifles. Give me the spent ones and I will have my men do the reload. That is the least I can do for having a front row seat to an excellent performance. Man, you are some bad girls!” he exclaimed with a grin.

“That is a deal!” said Jane.

While they spoke, frequent gunshots from down the Las Vegas Trail could be heard.  The shots were sporadic, indicating that the scouts were performing acts of mercy on the foreign troops and the wounded animals. In this war, prisoners and wounded horses were never taken.

Lynn and Sandra emerged from the foot path up the mountain they had taken before. Sandra was carrying her pneumatic bow while Lynn was carrying her Big X chain gun with gloved hands. The barrel on her weapon was still smoking just like Jane’s and Emily’s chain guns.

“I was beginning to worry that the barrel would melt. That was the first time I have had to fire two drums back to back. I don’t think the gun would stand up if you had to use three drums.”

“It is not often you find yourself in a situation where you have to fire fifteen hundred rounds in two minutes,” said Francis with a cigar in his mouth.

“We just wanted to make sure we got most of them,” said Sandra.

“The explosives on the arrows was a smart move! Who thought of that?” asked Scott.

“Lynn brought the pipe bombs and the plastic ties. I wasn’t sure how the arrows would fly with additional weight but it was worth a try,” answered Sandra.

“Well, it was a damn good try! You caught them off guard and they were up the trail a good bit. I didn’t know arrows could fly so far. It was a hell of a fireworks show!” said Scott.

“Can you imagine what that would be like with some of the…other bombs we carry?” asked the Pale Rider.

“It worked better than what I hoped for. It gives me an idea of how we may help the slave labor kids at FEMA camp 37 but you have already figured it out, haven’t you honey?” asked Lynn looking up at Francis standing on the boulder.

Francis didn’t answer her question.

“You know something Scott? I kind of like this boulder on the Las Vegas Trail. It serves a good purpose…for now. Janie and Emily found a trail in those woods that we can use to get around it, even if it is only one horse and rider at a time. It will stop all those Hussein mounted patrols using this trail to get to the Javier Trail. That will only leave them one option to try to get past this rock and that is not a good one.”

“You mean the Nightmare Trail? No, that is not a good option! I went across it once and that was enough for me!” exclaimed Scott.

“That’s exactly what I mean. The only riders I know who use the trail in these parts are Free America scouts. This boulder won’t affect us that much. It will take a ton of dynamite and three or four days to break this rock down and move it off the trail. I think we should leave it right here.’

“That sounds good to me! My men and I have had to clear this trail twice thanks to Little Jimbo. Besides, I don’t get in this part of the state that often anymore. I just have one request,” said Scott.

“What is that?” asked Amanda eying the big man intently.

Amanda had known Scott for a long time and they were good friends but Amanda never trusted anyone that she didn’t know well.

“That from now on this landmark be known as Jimbo’s rock.”

Scott’s comment brought laughter from everyone, including Francis.

“Jimbo’s rock it is. What do you think Jimbo, having a big fuck up turn out to be a landmark in Nevada history?” asked Francis.

“Aww, c’mon Francis! I planned all this!” he answered laughing.

“I reckon you did Jimbo,” answered Francis softly.

“There is only an hour or two of daylight left. You still planning on moving on to Vegas tonight?” asked Scott.

“What are you going to do?” asked Francis.

“We are going to move up the Las Vegas Trail a couple of miles from here with Doc and the kids just to be safe.”

“How did the kids react when they heard all the gunfire and explosions?” asked Lynn.

She was worried about the kids.

“They never heard a thing. Doc and a couple of my computer geek scouts set up the notebook computers and rigged up some earphones for all three of the kids. They were fascinated by the computer. They have never seen or used one. Doc had them listening to some of his old rock videos. The last I saw them they were watching one of those Red Floyd videos or whatever the hell they are called. I like country music myself,” said Scott.

“Don’t ever say that around Doc or Zak because you will get an earful. It is Pink Floyd that those two old codgers listen to and they listen to that band every chance they get. I do too! The first time I heard of them was the night Georgia Boy was killed,” said the Pale Rider.

“Whatever, Amanda, the kids didn’t hear a thing. They were listening, watching the computer screen and still munching on something. The scouts are all trotting out their hidden stashes of munchies,” added Scott.

“During the trip to the base try to get them to eat something other than sweets! Men, they are such pushovers when it comes to kids!” exclaimed Lynn.

“I reckon we will camp up on the plateau to the Passageway of Faith for tonight Scott. That is a secure place. The trail won’t be stinking that much by tomorrow morning when we head back to Las Vegas,” said Francis.

“What then Francis?” asked Scott.

Everyone on the boulder and on the ground turned to look at the man dressed in black, smoking one of his thin cigars.

“I don’t know for sure but I will figure out something tonight. All I know is that for sure, we will be back in Las Vegas. At this rate, I am never gonna’ be able to kill my uncle.”

* * * * *

The scouts with the Reaper were gathered around a comfortable campfire near the entrance of the tunnel known as the Passageway of Faith that led to the Nightmare Trail. Darkness had overtaken the Mojave Desert and the night time air was cool. It was a perfect night in the high desert to be sitting by a campfire. Supper was over and Emily, as usual, was working on her notebook field computer along with Lynn by her side. The other scouts were either enjoying some of Francis’s thin cigars or taking a few shots of Jack Daniels and swapping stories about their lives and the day’s events. The experienced Free America scouts were most interested in their newest members, the two ladies from Sin City prison and the McFoster brothers. All four new friends had interesting tales to tell.

“Francis told me you two were at the battle of Arlington, Texas. How long were you there before I arrived?” asked Amanda turning to young Trevor.

“Too long,” readily answered Trevor looking to the ground.

The scouts could tell that the word Arlington had struck a nerve with the young man.

“Sorry. I didn’t intend to bring up a bad memory.”

Trevor took a deep puff on one of Francis’s thin cigars, exhaled and continued to look at the ground. It was quiet around the campfire for a good thirty seconds. Francis was intently watching Trevor as was Wiley.  Trevor raised his head and locked eyes with Amanda.

“I never thanked you for what you did Amanda. What would you like to know?”

“Nothing and everything I guess. Were you there when the battle began?”

“Not at first. I was stationed in Houston which at the time was very enjoyable. I was going to the gulf of Mexico every weekend, doing some fishing, some surfing, chasing women and the nightlife was fun in Houston. Wiley was in the same outfit I was in and we thought we had it made for the rest of our lives. After one month the personnel losses were mounting rapidly at Arlington so the Texas government started to call up other units within the nation. I will always remember the day when we arrived at the front line at the Battle of Arlington.”

Then Trevor paused for a long moment.

“Why was that?” asked Lynn.

“Today kind of reminded of that day. There were bodies on a half mile wide field lying everywhere, stacked on top of one another. The smells were overwhelming and the dead bodies on the battlefield had been there for a long while. The swarms and sounds of flies could be heard one hundred, two hundred yards away while standing in the deep trenches. You couldn’t find a place to get a breath of fresh air because the stench was everywhere. I spent the first five minutes of my arrival puking my guts out. You get to used to it after a week or two I guess.”

“I had the same experience. There was constant sniper fire in between the charges of men trying to advance on every position. It was hell on Earth and there was no where to go. That was the first morbid feeling that came over you after the first day, the feeling of being trapped,” added Wiley softly.

“Couldn’t you just say the hell with this and leave?” asked Jane.

“No. The fucking Texas nation had special squads on the rear line that would shoot any deserters,” answered Wiley.

“Damn! That sounds crazy! It ain’t like that here in Free America. If you get tired of fighting you can just take your horse, your guns and leave!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“Has that ever happened? Has anyone just up and left?” asked Trevor.

“A few times I reckon but I have never personally met any scout who has done that. A few scouts I have known and known well have left though. A bullet from Homeland Security or a government military outfit was their ticket to get away. I don’t know of any Free America who has left on their own power. They all left in a body bag. All the scouts in this outfit know that now at this time in their lives it is kill or be killed. I reckon I do too. I just want to kill as many of them as I can before they kill me,” said Amanda.

“So you were there at the Arlington battlefield two months before Amanda arrived?” asked Lynn.

Trevor shook his head yes.

“It was by far the longest two months of my life. After a while you go numb and just go through the motions everyday and night. I knew I was going to die there until the day Amanda and Little Jimbo arrived to end the fighting. You two made it look simple. There had been gas attacks before but we had gas masks. No one had every seen a gas attack quite like yours.”

“You need more than a gas mask for Amanda’s poison,” replied Jane.

“Yeah, it is powerful stuff. It will probably get me and Little Jimbo one of these days. You too Lynn. You need to quit messing around with the stuff. You have babies now. You of all people shouldn’t be fucking with the poison,” said Amanda.

Lynn looked at Francis but said nothing. Neither did Francis. He just blew a ring of smoke into the air looking at the night sky.

“Anyways, when that battle was over they pinned a couple of cheap ribbons on me and Wiley’s uniform. After that the Texas command sent us to guard Hoover Dam and the high bridge. That was relaxing at first but became boring fairly quickly. The duty was driving me and Wiley crazy. I spoke with a few of my friends who were with the Free America movement in the three nations and not with the government forces of the three new nations. None of them were riding horses around in the field like you guys do so I don’t know if you could call them scouts or not. My friends were in cities, towns and places like that, on foot, mostly. Some were on dirt bikes but even those were difficult to keep running with the scarcity and price of gas,” concluded Trevor.

“That is a big advantage with using a horse. You can always find cheap fuel like a patch of good grazing ground. Plus you can’t beat a horse in these mountains as long as the dumb ass government goons keep coming after you. I don’t know about riding a horse in a city environment,” said Jane.

“Are the gun battles always as intense as today Francis?” asked Wiley.

Francis was slow to answer, like he always was.

“I reckon it depends on who you ride with Wiley,” was all he said.

There was silence for a long minute. Finally, Jane could not handle the silence anymore.

“Sometimes they are worse, a lot worse. The Javier Ranch and FEMA camp 43 were two rough fights.”

“Amen to that Janie. Me and Little Jimbo have found ourselves in some pretty bad places in the past. FEMA camp 37 the second time wasn’t no stroll in the park,” added Amanda.

“You two ladies did real good today. All the action didn’t seem to faze you. You both acted like you had done it before,” said Wiley looking at Lydia and Sandra.

Lydia and Sandra looked at each other. Finally, Sandra spoke to Wiley, directly.

“If you are speaking of all the dead bodies that is nothing for Lydia and I. It was strange hearing all the loud noises. We both have been in some fights where there was a lot of screaming and yelling. We have also been in some fights where a lot of people were killed and there was no noise. It is never the same.”

“I can believe that with that weapon you girls carry,” replied Wiley.

“The male gangs in Sin City prison call our bows silent death for a good reason,” added Lydia.

“So what happened today was like a stroll in the park for you two?” asked Wiley.

“If you ever get the chance to roam Sin City prison when it is night you will see. The only light in the prison at night is moonlight. When there is no moon it can be dangerous and very deadly. Our gang likes to patrol and roam our established perimeter when it is dark. That is the best time to kill men,” said Sandra.

Her comment gave the McFoster brothers, as well as Little Jimbo, goose pimples. Her statement was cold and stated with conviction.

“You two don’t like men do you?” asked Wiley.

“You just get that way if you are a female and live in Sin City prison. I liked boys when I was young. I was married to a man once who turned out to be a monster and ruined my life. I got rid of him and paid a price for doing that,” said Lydia softly.

“You will meet some great guys in the Nevada Free America outfit. We do the same thing basically. We run the bad boys off or wind up killing them, ain’t that right Amanda?”

“I don’t have any experience at that Janie. All the men I have met at Free America have been…great. I have been blessed I guess,” said Amanda, grabbing Jimbo’s hand.

“Are we gonna’ have anyone pull guard duty tonight?” asked Wiley to no one in particular.

Wiley was becoming uncomfortable discussing the subject anymore.

“We have guards on duty now, six of them, but if you want to help out, we can do that I reckon. Just make sure you have a pocketful of dog biscuits and you should do fine,” answered Lynn.

Her comment caused everyone to laugh, but just a little.

“It so strange hearing laughter. We never heard laughter in Sin City prison other than the children in the compound’s playground. It is refreshing to hear. It makes me feel…relaxed,” said Lydia.

“Me too sister. It is a sound that I had forgotten,” added Sandra.

“Same here. Most of the time people grumbled about conditions at Hoover Dam. There was no laughter in Arlington…ever,” said Trevor.

“Oh, when you travel with scouts and when the dust settles, most of the time people have a good time around the campfire. Not always, but a majority of the time. We have a lot of practical and impractical jokers in Free America. You will find that out, if you live long enough,” said Lynn.

It became very quiet for a long while after Lynn made her statement.

“So, what is the plan for tomorrow Francis?” asked Wiley.

“I am still working on it. The problem I see is there is no place close to FEMA camp 37 to lay low and design a plan. I reckon one of us could make the day ride to Las Vegas, scout the area and come back with an idea on what to do. The problem I can see, let’s suppose, there are a hundred kids in those buildings. Escorting them to safety is gonna’ be slow, take a lot time and expose everyone to Homeland Security and their mercenary killers. They won’t care about the kids attempting to collect the reward on every scout’s head. That is the problem. A lot of kids could get killed.”

“I have been thinking about that too,” said Amanda.

“Yeah, using poison even when the wind is right would be dangerous with some slow moving little people. Having a lot of horses won’t help us either. We would be stopping every ten feet to pick up a kid off the hard, rock strewn trail and they would probably be hurt,” added Lynn.

There was more silence for several minutes. Finally, Lydia spoke.

“I know a place that is close by the FEMA camp workers compound that would be safe for the kids. We could get them to safety if we had three hours at the most.”

Lydia’s statement surprised everyone. Finally Francis spoke.

“I think I know what you are going to suggest but go ahead tell them what you think we should do.”

“Okay. We could take them to Sin City prison. The three nations guard the prison and the federal government doesn’t fuck with them. The Dyke’s compound already contains seven hundred or more children within its compound. Another three hundred won’t mean much and they would be safe for now. Once inside, it would be a ten mile hike to the compound but we have a lot of sisters and wagons to transport the children to safety. If we can get Tricia to agree, and I think she would, we could get them there with some help from Free America. That means us.”

“Deposit the kids in the prison! I didn’t think of that! That might work and it would be safer in there for now than out in the wilderness trekking two hundred plus miles to the Secondary Base!” exclaimed Janie.

The scouts around the campfire looked at Francis.

“I think that is the ticket. Zak is already working on the details, like talking with his ex-wife. How far is the secret entrance and exit from the portable buildings?” asked Francis.

“You know about that?” asked Lydia.

Francis grinned.

“Everyone sitting at this campfire knows about it now. I just put two and two together. I didn’t think Preacher Joe would have a fifty foot tall ladder hanging around on both sides of the wall.”

Lydia realized that she had just been tricked. So did the experienced female scouts.

“You have to watch out when you talk with Francis, Lydia. He ain’t like the other big mouth male scouts. He is the type that I call sneaky fuckers!”
exclaimed Janie.

Lynn, Amanda and Emily nodded their heads yes. Francis was, by any account, a quiet, sneaky man. He rarely said one hundred words a day unless he had to and when he did those words were usually in the form of a question or a short, blunt order. With Francis, unlike Zak, if he told you to do something and if you refused to do whatever he asked, he would go do it himself. He would never yell or get upset like old man Zak. He would just make you feel bad later.

“Can we take the horses with us into Sin City prison through the tunnel?” asked Francis.

“I didn’t say anything about a tunnel!” exclaimed Lydia.

Francis flashed his wicked, thin smile.

“Well?” he asked.

“You may as well tell him if we are going to do this. We are scouts now and Joe wouldn’t care when it comes to saving kids. You know Preacher Joe. You see him on the playground with the kids at least once a week,” said Sandra.

Lydia held up the brass crucifix hanging around her neck.

“This is actually a key to a heavy duty hidden door in a ravine near to Joe’s and Uncle Dan’s house. It is a big door and the tunnel is long and the ceiling is high. Going through the doorway riding on a horse you won’t be able to do but you could certainly lead a horse through the door. But once inside you can easily ride until you get to the exit door. Then you are in the drainage tunnels. You can ride in those too if you watch your head at certain points.”

“Where does the drainage tunnel exit?”

“Right on Boulder Highway by an old casino named Joker’s Wild. There is a small stream that disappears into another drainage tunnel at that exit. Joe calls it the Las Vegas wash I think. From the tunnel we need to use, it is a six mile walk to Sahara Boulevard and then another five miles to the Fontainebleau Tower.”

“That is a long walk for some young kids. I am sure some of them are probably weak from malnutrition and abuse. If we snatch three hundred kids we will most likely have our hands full,” said Lynn.

“How far are the portable buildings from the entrance to Sin City, Lydia?”

“From the top of the Fontainebleau we can see FEMA camp 37. It is a good three miles just to the wall and then another five miles east to the culvert. Add another two miles to walk through the tunnel.”

“So let’s just call it what it is, a twenty mile hike in the middle of the night with a bunch of kids who are probably not in the best of health. That presents some problems,” interjected Jane.

“I don’t know about that. That little boy Zak and both of the little girls seemed to be tough and in pretty good shape. They managed to run in that ravine for two miles in the heat of the day,” said Wiley.

“They were running on adrenaline Wiley!” exclaimed Sandra.

“What do you think the kids we, uh, kidnap, in the middle of the night are going to be running on? Here a bunch of strangers with guns break in, wake them up and start giving them orders in the dark to get out of their beds and get walking. If I was a little kid, the first chance I got I would run like hell and start screaming my head off.”

“He has a valid point,” said Lynn.

“I reckon we should just leave them there to die,” said Francis with his low, gruff voice, blowing a ring of smoke into the air.

“No! We have to do something Francis!” exclaimed the Night Ranger.

“This ain’t no FEMA camp 43,” he said softly.

“Francis is right. FEMA camp 43 didn’t take that much planning, just patience and determination. Plant a lot of explosives by the wall over time and then set them off. Plus the inmates in the camp joined in on the fight for freedom. You can’t expect little kids to do that,” said Emily.

“Add the fact we don’t have the time, at least not much of it,” added Francis.

“You have to think of something Francis! Please! You are the one who always seems to come up with a plan!” said Jane.

Francis exhaled a perfect ring of smoke.

“Sorry. I am tapped out.”

Nobody said a word for a long minute but Wiley was moving on his seat, looking like he had something he wanted to say.

“I think I might have a workable plan if we can get organized and get some help. Face it, we can’t do this alone.”

“Well, spit it out Wiley,” said Francis.

At that moment, the two Jack Russell terriers emerged from the dark and scooted across the campsite to land in Lynn and Jane’s laps, respectively.

“Does that mean trouble?” asked Trevor nervously.

Trevor always seemed to get hyper when it was dark.

“No. It means the big dogs have secured the Las Vegas Trail and are in guard mode. The alpha males have done their job for the next hour or so. They will go check up on the German Shepherds if they hear anything while getting pampered. Continue Wiley,” said Lynn.

“Does your gang in Sin City have wheeled carts?” asked Wiley turning to face Lydia.

“We have a lot of carts. We use them to transport the food from the train. It takes two women to pull a cart laden with food, as long as the terrain is level,” replied Lydia.

“Can those carts fit through the exit and entrance door of this secret tunnel?”

“I think so. Even if that presents a problem the wheels can easily be taken off and remounted.”

“Great! With enough carts and human mules that solves the transport problem, at least some of it. Now, how do we get the kids out of a building quietly? I think I might have the answer. We have three weapons we can use. It will take a little more time but I think, once we take care of any guards with the silent death bows, we can get the kids out without making a lot of noise.”

“Weapons! What in the hell are you talking about Wiley?” asked Jane.

“We have little Zak, Mary and Ashley. All those kids know that Zak, Mary and Ashley, some how, got away from the slave labor camp. We take the kids that have joined Free America into each building, wake up the kids and let our kids tell the story of the new strangers that saved them from the FEMA guards. I think the kids who are slaves will follow them. The ones that want to stay, then they can stay. I don’t think that will happen. When the supervisor got sick all the kids scrambled to get away and that was in broad daylight with plenty of other Homeland Security agents standing nearby. The kids want to get away.”

Lydia spoke up.

“I have been a prisoner in a place that I have grown to love and sometimes I still wanted to get away. These kids are being beaten, starved and most of all, not loved…by anyone. They will want to flee, believe me.”

“Thanks for speaking up,” said Wiley, flashing his riverboat smile at the young woman.

“I don’t know. We might wind up with a lot of dead children,” said Little Jimbo.

“They are dead anyways, Jimbo. What do you think Francis?,” interjected Amanda.

Francis blew a smoke ring in front of his face. He was quiet for a moment, watching his smoke ring dissolve in the hot night air.

“I reckon so,” he answered.

“You reckon so what?” asked Lynn.

“I reckon that is as good a plan as any if we are going to do anything about the kids and I reckon some of them might get killed in the operation.”

Francis comment caused all of the scouts around the campfire to pause and think. Everyone knew that Francis had a habit of telling what he thought, whether anyone agreed with him or not. What bothered them was that Francis was usually right.

“That doesn’t sound good to me,” Lynn finally said.

“It doesn’t baby but Amanda is right. The kids are dead anyways one of these days if we don’t free them. I do have some information from Zak that no one knows about. It might have a drastic impact on any decisions we make tonight.”

“What information is that?” asked Wiley.

“How many kids is everyone figuring on grabbing?” asked Francis.

“There are ten portable building according to little Zak. I figure that is about thirty kids per building, If my math is still good that would be three hundred kids. We should be able to handle that,” said Wiley.

“Those are big wooden buildings Wiley. That would be plenty of room for more than thirty slaves the size of small children.”

“Are you saying there are more than thirty kids in each building?  How do you know that Francis?”

“I don’t know Wiley. How many buildings do you think are in the slave camp?”

“There are ten. That is what little Zak said.”

“Little Zak didn’t say that. He said he resided in building one zero,” answered Francis.

Francis pulled a piece of paper out of his vest pocket. He handed the neatly folded piece of paper to Lynn, who was sitting next to him.

As she unfolded the paper Francis spoke.

“I printed that off on Emily’s field printer just for the purpose of giving it to anyone who came up with a plan. I got the image from Data back at the secondary base. He lifted it using one of the feds satellites.”

Lynn looked at the piece of paper for a long moment. The brunette surveyed the piece of paper for a long while displaying a look of hopelessness on her pretty face.

“Well, what is it Lynn?” asked Amanda.

“It is a satellite image Amanda. It is a satellite image of the slave labor camp at the FEMA base. There aren’t ten buildings, there are thirty!” exclaimed Lynn.

“There are thirty? That would mean we would be dealing with nine hundred kids!” exclaimed Wiley.

“That certainly changes things,” said Little Jimbo.

“And we are assuming there are thirty kids in each building. What if there are bunk beds in each building stacked to the ceiling? You know the government is using bunk beds. They don’t give a shit about the kids, look how they treat them!” added Janie.

“We could find ourselves with fifteen, eighteen, two thousand kids or more wanting to get away,” said Sandra.

Wiley was using a stick, doing math calculations in the dirt in front of where he was sitting. Emily was using her notebook computer attempting to get a connection to Data back at the Secondary Base. All of the scouts seemed to be agitated, except Francis. He continued to smoke one of his trademark cigars, watching his scouts while not uttering a word.

A few minutes passed when Emily finally spoke.

“Data has managed to pull up a few photos of when the kids emerge from a building in the morning when they go to work. He says the images are too grainy to get any detail other than the line of kids standing outside of the building and the line of kids is…long.”

“I just finished my calculations. We could be dealing with three thousand kids!” exclaimed Wiley.

The scouts sitting around the campfire laughed.

“At least he is great at math in the sand!” said Lydia, defending Wiley.

Her comment brought more laughter, even from Wiley.

“So what are we gonna’ do if there are three thousand kids, Francis?” asked Wiley.

Francis, who never answered any question directed at him quickly, looked at Lynn. His lover had a pained look on her face and nodded her head yes.

“If there are that many kids being used for slave labor, I reckon that makes it more imperative that we do something pretty quick. Just what, I don’t know but I have tonight to think about it. So does everyone else. We will figure it out by morning.”

* * * * *

Chapter Twelve

Get Together

Breakfast was over and the Reaper squadron was ready to ride back down the trail to Las Vegas. The party navigated through the bodies and body parts of many dead horses and men lying on the mountain trail when leaving, a result of the violent confrontation yesterday. It was not a pretty sight.

“It looks like Scott’s men did a thorough job after the ambush because I don’t see any saddles on any dead horses or any guns lying on the ground. They even got most of the government issued boots off the dead men,” said Little Jimbo while sitting in his saddle and looking around at the grisly scene.

The experienced female scouts with Free America were unfazed, steering their horses around the carcasses. They had seen such carnage before. The six dogs on the ground, would occasionally stop and sniff a horse or a human corpse, but continued to scout ahead of the group, always staying alert. Lydia and Sandra were starting to get nauseous. The smell of death was already beginning to permeate the air. The vultures in Nevada were congregating to circle high overhead. There were many vultures and the nasty birds were anticipating a feast in the near future on the Las Vegas Trail.

“I don’t know why it smells so bad. We are supposed to be used to that smell in Sin City prison,” said Lydia.

Jane and Emily laughed.

“You will have to get used to that. The problem is you have finally breathed some fresh country air since leaving Sin City prison. Now you know the difference when it comes to being free and being confined in a hellhole,” said Emily.

“So did you come up with a plan Francis?” asked Jane.

“Did anyone else?” he replied.

Wiley, Trevor, Little Jimbo and the female scouts shook their heads no.

“You must have thought of something because we wouldn’t be heading down this trail to Las Vegas if you didn’t come up with a plan Francis. You and Lynn would be headed to the Secondary Base to see the babies,” said Little Jimbo.

Francis nodded his head yes and continued to head Two down the trail.

“I have a rough idea but we need to do some old fashioned scouting. I need more information.”

“What does that mean?” asked Lynn.

“Oh, nothing in particular.”

“Where are we going to hole up for the night? Are we going to find an abandoned warehouse in North Las Vegas, close to the labor camp?” asked Jane.

“We ain’t doing anything like that Janie. That is too risky. There aren’t any nearby mountains to offer us security plus we need to get more information.  We need to do some more scouting before we make our move.”

“So where are we heading Francis. Quit playing games with me!” demanded Lynn.

Francis looked at his assertive mate and winked. The Night Ranger returned his wink. Lynn was putting on an act.

“We all are going to prison today or tomorrow at the latest. I think it will take us most of the day just to get to the east side of Sin City prison.”

“What?” exclaimed most everyone riding behind Francis.

Francis turned in his saddle and smiled at his scouts.

“Don’t be alarmed. I was on the computer this morning. Zak and I have a plan for the kids. Remember when I said yesterday I had a surprise for everyone. I have a surprise, a good surprise.”

“What is the surprise Lynn? You were in the tent with your man this morning!” exclaimed Janie.

The Night Ranger had a grin spread across her face.

“Francis made me promise to keep it a secret until he announces what he and Zak have in mind. I can’t tell anyone now!” she exclaimed.

“Couples! They are a pain in the ass sometimes!” said Janie.

Lynn looked at Emily and Jane with the grin still on her pretty face.

“You two have a lot of room to talk!”

“What is it Francis? C’mon old friend! I was the one who suggested the plan, wasn’t I?” asked Wiley.

Francis turned in his saddle and this time he had a cold expression on his face. Then he let his wicked grin appear and spread slightly.

“Actually Wiley, you are going to find out that you did have an important part of the plan. You and Amanda.”

“Me? I ain’t said shit and I sure as hell haven’t said a thing about any plan!” said the Pale Rider.

Francis laughed and Lynn joined him.

“Amanda, you usually don’t. Have you ever heard the old saying that actions sometimes speak louder than words?” asked Lynn.

“Of course! So what?”

“You will find out in two days once we get to the exit of the secret tunnel.”

“Be quiet woman! You have already told them enough,” said Francis.

“Hey, look on that ridge to the north! There are three horses standing around and it looks like they are survivors of the ambush! They have saddles and guns so they must be government horses!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

The Reaper crew pulled to a stop and looked over to the nearby ridge.

“We can’t leave them out here lost Francis and it would be good to haul some spare horses with us on this trip. You never know when one of our rides might come up lame,” said Little Jimbo.

All of the experienced scouts shuddered at Little Jimbo’s comment. For a scout’s horse to come up lame in the high desert was something each and every scout tucked back in the hidden vault of their minds. For something like that to happen meant the loss of a good friend and often, depending on where the horse went lame, meant a death sentence for a scout.

“Go get them Jimbo. Three more horses in this parade won’t matter I reckon. Hell by the time we get out to Sin City we will have enough animals and scouts in this outfit to have a parade down Fremont Street. Send the dogs to help Jimbo, lover.”

“Jungen…herde!” ordered Lynn, pointing at the horses on the nearby ridge.

The four German Shepherds took off in the direction of the horses on the ridge like bolts of lightening. Little Jimbo moved his horse twenty feet in the direction of the stray horses and then halted.

“What in the hell do they need me for?” he asked out loud.

Jimbo jumped off his ride and waited.

Minutes later the three horses trotted up to Jimbo and stopped in front of him. The four German Shepherds had done their job, quickly. Jimbo reached in his pocket and tossed a dog biscuit to each of the big dogs while gathering the reins of the government horses. Immediately, the two terriers jumped out of Lynn and Janie’s saddle bags, hitting the ground and rushing towards Jimbo, growling.

“Holy shit! Here! I forgot!”

He tossed a dog biscuit to each of the Jack Russell terriers. The small dogs each took a biscuit in their mouths, then turned and ran at their master’s horses, hitting the scout’s left foot resting in the stirrup, using their foot as a step and landing directly on the saddle. Then both terriers took refuge in the right saddle bag on Lynn and Janie’s horses.

Lynn turned and looked at Wiley, whose eyes were wide.

“Now do you see what I mean about feeding the alpha males first?”

“Damn! Those two midgets acted like they were gonna’ tear up Jimbo and the two of them didn’t do shit to earn that dog biscuit! Would they have bitten him?” asked Wiley.

“No, but I can guarantee you that Jimbo would smell like terrier piss sometime today and he would have stains on both of his pant legs. Those two terriers would remember what he did and they would pee on him when they got the first opportunity. Jimbo would have been pissed on either by one or both of them. I have tried to break them of that bad behavior but I gave up. They get that from their daddy.”

“Do you mean Francis?” asked Trevor.

The experienced scouts laughed hard.

“No! Their daddy was Schultz, the first Jack Russell terrier who fought for Free America!” replied Lynn.

Every one of the experienced scouts was relieved to see that Lynn was laughing. She had managed, somehow, to put the memory of the fateful day Shultz was killed, in her past. She had focused on the good memories she had of her small dog.

“Let’s get moving! It is going to take us two days to get to the exit of the secret tunnel on the east side of Sin City prison,” said Francis.

“If we push it we may make that trip by nightfall,” said Wiley.

Francis turned to look at Wiley with his usual expressionless stare.

“I ain’t in any hurry Wiley. We will get there in two days.”

* * * * *

Just as Francis said the trip to the tunnel into Sin City prison took two, relaxing days of travel. Skirting around the Nellis Air Force base using the mountains to the east, Francis selected a different trail than what he had used when he had traveled north earlier in the week. This trail was much higher, winding in and around near the tops of the mountains resulting in a little more difficulty to travel than the previous trail but in exchange it offered a magnificent view of Lake Las Vegas and Lake Mead far off in the distance. The scouts had made camp two hours before dark at the entrance to the Sin City prison tunnel and were relaxing around a campfire taking advantage of having a chance to get better acquainted with one another. Little Jimbo, along with Lynn’s help, was cooking up some grub for the night and there were some pleasant aromas drifting in the afternoon air. The German Shepherds and Jack Russell terriers were somewhere out in the field on patrol and doing what the dogs had been trained to do. It had been a fun and spectacular ride on the high trail through the Sunrise Mountains.

Most of the scouts were sitting on their wooden stools or small boulders around the campfire, sipping on aluminum cups of coffee and watching the hyper active Little Jimbo work with some cooking pots and pans. Janie was the only one up and walking about, tending to the horses and mules.

“How many trails are you familiar with in those mountains we just rode through Francis? That was a far different trail than what we took earlier this week leaving Arizona,” said Lydia.

“How many trails am I familiar with? In Nevada? All of them I reckon,” he replied.

“What about you Lynn?”

“I know most of them around here and all of them in the middle and northwest part of the state. Janie and Em are like Francis. They have been all over the state of Nevada and Nevada is one big state. Amanda and Jimbo, however, know more backwoods trails than any Free America scout from Nevada. Those two have been all over the west on their horses.”

“How long did it take to ride Spooky all over the west, Amanda?” asked Lydia, turning to face the Pale Rider.

“I have been riding five long years, the last three with Little Jimbo. We have been pretty much everywhere west of the Mississippi River. We always seem to be on the move and hardly ever stay in one place very long. The entire west is our home…for now.”

Lydia looked wistfully at the campfire.

“I would like to do that…someday.”

“No, you wouldn’t. If you want to ride around on a horse stay in Nevada, especially the north part and Northern California because in that part of the country there are some spectacular rides. It will put religion in you, I can tell you that.”

Major and Sarge came bounding into the camp wagging their tails, jumping around and then finally sat down in front of Francis.

Trevor jumped to his feet.

“Holy shit! Is there trouble?”

The scouts laughed.

“Boy, you need to relax!” exclaimed Wiley.

“They acted that way before when trouble was on the way!”

“They did not! They are, however, letting us know that we are about to have company, good company,” said Lynn.

“Who are we expecting?” asked Emily.

“It is Ringo and his boys. They are coming from Northern Arizona to help us out,” said Francis.

“Shit! I hope they didn’t run into trouble on the Hoover Dam Bridge!” said Wiley.

Francis laughed. No one around the campfire knew why Francis was laughing, except for the Night Ranger. She was giggling softly and shaking her head back and forth.

“How many?” asked Amanda.

“Thirty scouts including Ringo,” answered Francis.

“That’s good. Having Ringo and his men around here makes me feel a lot better. Ringo and his men know how to operate out in the field. They have been doing that for a long time.”

Soon the new arrivals were tethering their horses to the brush overhanging the large drainage culvert and settling in for the night. Several tents were pitched and more campfires started to burn in the bottom of the wide culvert. Soon the smell of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air.

Ringo walked up and hugged the female scouts he knew. He embraced Calamity Jane and Emily for a longer than normal moment. The three scouts had known each other for a long time and had spent many times on the trail together. The half breed just nodded at the men. Of all the scouts that were present, Ringo had been with Free America from the beginning. Most of the scouts sitting around the campfire Ringo had trained or had a part in their training to become a scout at one time in their lives.

“You got the email from the old man I see,” said Francis, offering one of his cigars to the half breed.

“I sure did. Zak is in one of his gung ho moods. He is difficult to deal with when he is like that. He can flat out drive a person crazy with his orders.”

“Amen to that,” said Amanda.

Lynn nodded her head in agreement. Both women had had volatile arguments with the old man in the past. In the future, both were sure there would be more. But both of them loved the old man dearly and usually did what he requested them to do.

“Did you and the guys take the ferry across the Colorado River south of the big dam or did you use the bridge Ringo?” asked Amanda.

“We used the bridge by the big dam. Screw that banged up flat boat and screw that over charging Indian at the river that calls that death trap a ferry. I saved the silver I carry and went across the high bridge. After all, Texas and Nevada control the bridge and using the bridge cuts six hours off the travel time. It was an easy ride for me and my men.”

“You didn’t run into trouble crossing the high bridge?” asked Amanda.

“Hell no! Why should we run into trouble crossing the bridge? Most of the Hussein mounted patrols head north in Nevada looking for scouts in the mountains. They know that to head south where the Texas militia controls the turf and where we sometimes patrol would be dangerous. Why do you ask that?” asked Ringo.

“I was just wondering Ringo,” answered Amanda innocently.

“The Texas guards on the high bridge were as nice as could be. They seemed real happy to see me and my twenty nine men.”

“They did, did they? Were the guards on the Arizona side of the bridge?” asked Francis.

“Yes they were. Now something did happen that struck me as being a little strange. The guards were stationed on the Arizona side and knew that a troop of Nevada Free America scouts were headed their way, right? I was sitting on my horse with the officer on duty, chatting with him, while my men passed through the checkpoint and he asked me to let all the scouts with Nevada Free America know that there would be no problem for any Free American from Nevada passing through the checkpoint again and to make sure that I passed that information on to Zak! I can’t remember Zak ever riding across that bridge since I have known him!”

The entire Reaper crew sitting around the campfire grinned but said nothing.

“Did Zak tell you about the plan?” asked Francis.

“No. I asked but he said you would fill everyone in tonight at eight o’clock.”

“Why eight o’clock?” asked Lydia.

“Don’t ask me. I am just the hired help around here,” replied Ringo filling his coffee cup.

“Don’t mind him Lydia. He ain’t just the hired help. Ringo is one of the best scouts Free America has. He is actually a graduate from some fancy college and he is one wicked chemist. Him and Doc got me started on my poison education,” interjected Amanda.

Ringo laughed.

“I think you, Lynn and Francis have taken the poison education far beyond what I know. All three of you have learned your poison lessons well. Should I have my men here at eight o’clock for this meeting?”

“I reckon so. The plan is gonna’ involve everyone and I have a surprise. It will affect all of us.”

“Dammit Francis. Quit teasing everyone! This is tearing me up more than the night in Rochester!” said Emily.

“Don’t worry Em. We ain’t gonna’ be burning any towns to the ground tonight. Tonight is gonna’ be fun,” interjected Lynn.

“I just would like to know who left the stack of firewood by the exit door and the two big bottles of Jack Daniels on top of the pile out in the middle of nowhere in a big ditch,” said Wiley.

“That was Preacher Joe. It had to be. He was the only one who knew about this culvert, other than Sandra and me,” answered Lydia.

“We have firewater?” asked Ringo.

“We have firewater Ringo, but no firewater for anyone until after the meeting tonight,” said Francis.

“That is still two hours away,” said Wiley.

“Yes it is. I suggest you and your little brother get with Emily and learn how to use the computer. You too, Lydia and Sandra! Do you have any extra notebook computers Ringo?”

“I have two spares.”

“Would you mind letting Wiley, Trevor, Lydia and Sandra use them tonight? They need to be educated on how important a notebook computer can be to a scout.”

“They can have the computers.  After all, they will need them riding with Free America. Where is the latrine? I have to use the bathroom and I am sure a lot of my boys have to go too.”

“We ain’t set one up yet Ringo. I reckon we need to find a spot down this culvert a ways,” replied Little Jimbo.

Jimbo hopped off a boulder he was sitting on and headed for his horse to get a shovel, some canvas and twine.

“There is no need for that,” said Lydia.

“What? I have to take a dump young lady,” said Ringo looking a little perturbed.

“Follow me,” said Lydia, holding her brass crucifix in her right hand.

Lydia walked to the oversized metal door built into the wall of the drainage culvert. Opening the door effortlessly, she motioned for Ringo to follow. All of the scouts sitting around the campfire arose from their stools or boulders to view the interior of the mystery tunnel. Lydia flipped a light switch on the left wall of the tunnel. The lights came on as far as one could see. On the left wall of the tunnel was a door with the label men. On the right wall of the tunnel was a door with the label women.

“There are two bathrooms at this end of the tunnel and two more at the opposite end. They are nice inside with four shitter stalls and two shower stalls. Inside there is plenty of soap and toilet paper but there are only a few towels. Preacher Joe told me and Sandra that the bathrooms were built for the construction workers when the drainage tunnels and the big wall were built.”

“Hot damn! We have two hours before this meeting? Pass the word to my boys Jimbo! I know what I am going to do!” exclaimed Ringo.

Little Jimbo had his usual grin in place.

“What is that Ringo? As if I didn’t know.”

“I am going to grab one of those towels and take it into one of those stalls to reserve while I take a dump. Then I am going to take a hot shower! There is hot water isn’t there?”

“There is plenty of hot water. They used a one hundred gallon hot water tank when they built the wall,” replied Lydia.

“Damn! I see bars of soap on the shelf too! We have bars of soap when we travel but I will see if they smell any better than the one I have. Tell my boys to bring their towels Jimbo. Can we use both bathrooms?”

“Hell no, you can’t use the women’s bathroom Ringo! That one is for women! Can’t you read?” yelled Amanda.

“There are thirty dirty scouts out there Amanda! Two hours is not enough time!”

“Dammit Ringo! How long of a shower do you intend to have?”

The half breed grinned.

“A nice long one. I want to make sure I get clean when I get the chance and that ain’t often.”

Amanda sighed.

“Okay, your guys can use the women’s bathroom but you tell your boys it better be clean as a whistle when they get through. And that includes the toilets in both bathrooms. If I see one splatter of shit in any of the bowls you tell them I will personally shoot each and every one of them in the…at least in the foot!”

Ringo knew that Amanda would probably do just that.

“I will inspect the bathrooms once we are through. I promise you Pale Rider the women’s bathroom will be spotless once my boys are through.”

“Okay,” agreed Amanda.

Ringo immediately went into the men’s bathroom. Little Jimbo propped the door open with some firewood.

“I will spread the word. I guess we will use the showers after the eight o’clock meeting.”

“Lynn, Jimbo and I have dibs on the women’s bathroom after everyone is settled in for the night,” said Amanda while wrapping her arms around Little Jimbo and looking at Lynn with a grin on her face.

“Then Francis and I have the men’s bathroom and I can guarantee you that we won’t be disturbed by any drunken damn scout tonight.  Major and Sarge will see to that.”

“Could Jimbo and I borrow Thor and Jake for an hour or two tonight?” asked the Pale Rider.

* * * * *

The time was now eight o’clock at night. Ringo and his men had cleaned up and were waiting around the campfire with the Reaper crew. Even Wiley and Trevor had taken the opportunity to take showers, borrowing clean towels from Lynn. There were numerous wet towels hanging on the scrub brush surrounding the desert culvert drying in the night Nevada air. The air wasn’t warm tonight but it was not cool, either.

At precisely eight o’clock Preacher Joe emerged from the secret tunnel which surprised a majority of the scouts congregated around several campfires. He was dressed in his predatory outfit, all black, wearing his customary black leather hat with a wide brim. He was wearing his black leather vest and everyone sitting around the campfire could see that he was packing at least four guns on his torso. For the scouts that were not familiar with Preacher Joe, he cast an imposing persona.

After customary greetings, including two firm hugs and quick kisses from Lydia and Sandra on his cheek, Preacher Joe sat down next to Francis, who was sitting on a wide, flat boulder. In his right hand Preacher Joe carried several sheets of paper.

“Wow! A standing room only crowd! That is unusual for this ghost town now days,” he said flashing his smile.

“Yep. Everyone is here Joe. Do you want to start or do you want me to start?” asked Francis.

“I reckon I will go first. I just got back from the three nations’ meeting in Phoenix yesterday morning. It was very interesting to say the least. Uncle Zak emailed me about the children being used for slave labor by the federal government. The emissary who was sent by the dictator of the United States denied my allegation at the meeting of course. The representatives from the three nations jumped all over his case but because Nevada is not a recognized nation I found it difficult to get any steam behind my accusations because of parliamentary procedures but Nevada made a dent in the proceedings. My accusations got everything stirred up.  The forced child labor has dwelled on my mind since it heard about it. I spoke over the computer with the three children the Reaper crew recovered and what they told me disturbed me even more. The United States delegate wouldn’t allow for my digital recording of the meeting with the kids to be played for everyone but I can tell you, the foyer in my hotel room was packed and busy all night with delegates watching that interview and downloading digital copies to take back to their media outlets and their leaders. As I told some of you earlier we had a plan for Sin City prison but now, we have a better plan. I had Data crash in on the federal government’s satellite that always hovers over the southwest. He managed to move one of the camera’s on the satellite to monitor FEMA Camp 37 for the past twenty four hours. I have some downloaded photos that will…upset some of you.”

He handed one of the sheets of paper to Francis who gazed at the photo for a long time. Francis gave the photo to Lynn, who was sitting beside her man, and she too, looked at the photo for a long time with a pained look on her face. The scouts who knew the Night Ranger had seen the look she had on her face before. It was the same look she had on her face when she shot Javier’s daughter at point blank range in the face with one of Francis’s Colt forty fives. Saying nothing she passed the photo to her left to Amanda. The photo moved around the circle of scouts but no one said a word. They were too shocked to say anything.

“Hi Preacher Joe, I have heard a lot about you. My name is Wiley and this is my little brother Trevor. We used to guard the Hoover Dam but we have decided to ride with Free America in Nevada. Could you tell me what the photo is about? It’s gonna’ take thirty minutes for the picture to make the round and get to me.”

Preacher Joe eyed Wiley and Trevor for a moment or two. This was the first time he had met the two young men. Then he smiled.

“I have heard a lot about the highly decorated and controversial McFoster brothers at my meeting in Phoenix, believe it or not. The Texas nation wants them to return but Zak nixed that and let me tell you that that was one video conference that was as funny as hell. I will get to that in a few minutes. There are two photos on that piece of paper and the photos are automatically time stamped by the computer on the satellite. The top photo shows two big, burly FEMA guards carrying a little girl lying on a stretcher. By the size of her little body the girl could be no more than twelve years of age. The two goons are carrying her out of building twenty two on a stretcher in the labor camp at eight thirty in the morning. That is thirty minutes after the children are to file out of each building every morning and go to work. The second photo has a time stamp of eight forty one. That photo shows the same two FEMA guards placing the little girl into a grave in a ten acre field just east of the labor camp. Data enhanced that dirt area and found more small mounds of Nevada dirt than he could count. He told me he stopped counting when he reached three hundred.”

“Building twenty two? How many portable buildings are there?” asked Calamity Jane.

“There are thirty that we know of that contain children. There might be more children being sheltered in finished parts of FEMA Camp 37. We just can’t tell. According to the United States ambassador there are no children at FEMA camp 37.”

“We need to do something as quickly as we can! Fuck the United States representative and his leader! I wish I could put him on the business end of shovel for twelve hours under the hot Nevada sun!” exclaimed Amanda.

“Do you realize that this has happened all over the country, at least in the past, when FEMA camps were starting to be built when the riots and civil disobedience broke out? If it is happening now you know it has happened before. Does anyone here think those kids are there for educational purposes?,” said Preacher Joe.

No one answered but there were murmurs generated by many of the scouts.

“We are going to do something about it in Nevada,” was all Francis said.

Lynn was holding Francis tight, attempting to mask her emotions in front of the scouts. Amanda was getting madder by the second, starting to throw one of her trademark hissy fits. She was ready to mount Spooky and free the kids now. Little Jimbo had his hands full keeping her calm.

“So what is the plan Preacher Joe?” asked Wiley.

“We are going to commit a kidnapping, a mass kidnapping. Data figures there are two thousand and two hundred children, roughly, in that death trap. There could be more. That is about the same number of FEMA inmates that were freed in the second FEMA camp 37 raid. Everyone remembers how difficult that was to move able bodied grown adults and don’t forget, Free America blew the place up and Amanda killed a ton of FEMA guards with her poison gas along with everyone else. We won’t be able to use the mass extermination tools that we are accustomed to using because of the kids. So…we are going to free them and transport them to my prison if we can get the Dykes to take them. Zak is working on that as I speak,” declared Preacher Joe.

“I don’t understand! Why hasn’t our old gang agreed to help out by now?” exclaimed Sandra.

“Your old leader was worried about the children more than the logistics involved in sheltering and raising two thousand plus kids. She had a valid point because the wall guards would surely see a column of kids moving down Boulder Highway no matter what time of day it was. The secret of Sin City prison containing children would no longer be a secret.”

“This is starting sound like a hopeless situation. I thought we had a plan,” said Jane.

Joe nodded his head in agreement but he continued to speak.

“I thought so too, when I first heard about it but there is a saying in the Bible that most people overlook all the time. That saying is ‘ask and ye shall receive’. I received a notice in my hotel room in Phoenix the very day I arrived after our reunion in Northern Arizona that a special meeting had been conveyed that night. It seems that a serious conflict had arisen between the Texas Nation and the Free America organization in Nevada. When I went into the large conference room I was as surprised as shit to see Uncle Zak’s face on a large monitor. The meeting involved the leaders of the three nations and Free America in Nevada. It seems there was a formal complaint filed about an incident on the bridge by Hoover Dam involving some scouts.”

“No shit?” exclaimed Amanda.

Francis was grinning but he said nothing. He just nodded his head yes.

“Yes. A Texas officer by the name of Colonel Burns filed a formal complaint about a man named Zak and a woman named the Pale Rider. I knew who the Pale Rider was but it took me a while to figure out the Zak part. It wasn’t until they read the part of the report about a dog peeing on the Colonel’s leg that I knew who that was. Of course, the leaders of the three nations said that it was the craziest thing they had ever read or heard, especially when their communication specialist’s confirmed Zak was transmitting from the Secondary Base three hundred or so miles away from Hoover Dam. The good colonel was transferred out of Hoover Dam and to another area of Texas, far away. The leaders of the three nations grew especially angry when they read that the Pale Rider was in the group of scouts. The leader from Texas stood on the podium, apologized to Zak and stated the Texas nation could never repay the Free America organization in Nevada for Zak loaning them the services of the Pale Rider and her partner.”

Several members of the Reaper crew were laughing, hard. Francis and Joe still managed to keep semi serious expressions on their faces.

“What in the hell has the leader of the Texas nation been smoking? Zak never loaned me out to anyone. Me and Little Jimbo went to Texas because there was no need for us to do anything here in Nevada at the time. I went to Texas twice, once when Eric died and when I started to ride with Jimbo right after the second FEMA camp 37 raid.”

“I know all about it Amanda. Imagine me sitting in that room watching a big image of my Uncle Zak ranting at the three leaders about what happened. I was holding my breath. This brings me to the part of ‘ask and ye shall receive’. After listening to Zak cuss them out for five minutes the guards at the meeting marched thirty soldiers into the big room.”

Preacher Joe turned to face Wiley on his right.

“Have you ever heard of the Texas Tough Guys?”

All of the scouts sitting around the campfire laughed.

“What kind of name is that for an outfit?” asked Little Jimbo, laughing.

Wiley sat up erect and threw out his chest.

“Hey, it was the best I could come up with at Arlington. They were the survivors at Arlington. All of us were survivors from different outfits after rotting at Arlington the first year. Texas reorganized the survivors in the trenches, appointed me to lead and retired the decimated outfit’s names. Trevor came up with the Tough Guys. We hung together for eighteen months in that battle and I didn’t lose a man. After the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo ended the battle the entire outfit was transferred to Hoover Dam. Colonel Burns had them arrested? What an asshole!”

“That he seems to be. Your entire command was arrested and was facing a court martial, accused of not following a superior’s command under duress because of what happened on the bridge by Hoover Dam. The minute the Reaper crew moved on down Highway Ninety Three was when they were placed in handcuffs and thrown in holding cells.”

“They arrested all thirty of my men?” asked Wiley.

“Every one of them was placed under arrest Wiley. When they were marched into the conference room, they were given an apology and asked where would they like to be stationed other than Hoover Dam. That is when I jumped in. I suggested that I could use thirty more good men like them at Sin City prison for guard duty. The leader of the Texas nation offered them the duty and they accepted. They knew that you and Trevor had joined Free America. When I had my private meeting with them the next day I let them know that they would be seeing their two friends again in their lives, soon.”

Trevor and Wiley began giving everyone high fives, including Preacher Joe.

“Was that the surprise you talking about Francis.”

Francis just nodded his head yes and blew one of his trademark smoke rings.

“With thirty guards, I can cover the north perimeter of the big wall, the part that faces FEMA camp 37 all the way to Boulder Highway. The Texas Tough Guys are more than willing to help,” concluded Preacher Joe.

The female scouts in the Reaper crew were now very exited as well as all of the male scouts. There was hope after all for the children.

* * * * *

Chapter Thirteen

Vegas Vacation Excitement

After the meeting the scouts in Reaper’s crew and Ringo’s boys started to party but it was by all means a restrained party. The experienced female scouts were surprised when one of Ringo’s men pulled out a battered old wooden guitar and started to play some songs that were familiar in their past. Another man joined him playing a mouth harp. What really surprised everyone was when the Pale Rider went to Spooky and joined them with a guitar that she had learned to play with Eric’s tutoring before he was killed in action. She played the instrument surprisingly well and had a great singing voice. For some reason most of her renditions were songs by Pink Floyd. Her version of the song Comfortably Numb brought tears to Janie and Emily’s eyes. They knew the true meaning of the song. It was a funeral dirge that would be appropriate for every scout sitting around the campfire this night and probably be heard once again by many of them in the future.

The Night Ranger and the Reaper agreed to pull the initial shift of guard duty along with their three dogs, Tiger, Major and Sarge. The night Nevada sky was clear and the air was cool. There was a consistent breeze blowing from the south that was not strong and very pleasant. The moon was three quarters full and the two scouts had found a large flat boulder on a small hill from which they could see the campfires the scouts had built in the culvert. The two German Shepherds and the terrier were not doing much guarding. The small dog was lying on the Night Ranger’s lap and the two German Shepherds were lying as close as they could get to Francis. He was gently stroking the tops of their large heads, right between the ears, which is where they loved to be petted. Both of the big dogs were lying still with their eyes closed with their ears standing up, listening.

“Do you ever think this war is going to end lover?” asked Lynn.

Francis was smoking one of his thin cigars. This time he did not blow a smoke ring before answering.

“I reckon it will, one of these days.”

“Do you think one of us will get killed before it’s over?”

Francis paused for a long moment before answering the question.

“No. I have been there and done that. It was not pleasant. Besides, we have to raise some little boys one of these days. We can’t sluff that off on your mom and dad at the base. So the answer is no. I am going to kill them all before they kill us.”

“You have changed since that day honey.”

“I reckon so. So have you. In fact, all of us that were there that day have changed. That includes Scott and Ringo. Those two scouts have been wrecking havoc on the Hussein patrols after what happened at FEMA camp 43. I don’t know how they do it twenty four hours a day, seven days a week and both of them seem to be in a hurry.”

“You just have a different style lover and I love your style.”

After thirty minutes of conversation the scout couple saw a solitary figure dressed in black climbing the incline of the hill in their direction. The two German Shepherds raised their big heads with their ears aimed in the approaching man’s direction but were not alarmed. The terrier was fast asleep in Lynn’s lap knowing his two big canine brothers would handle any contingencies that might come up.

“Hi Francis. Hi Lynn. It sure is a nice Nevada night isn’t it?” asked Preacher Joe.

“All nights are pleasant as long as you are alive and free,” said Lynn.

“I reckon so,” added Francis.

This time he did blow a smoke ring that was quickly shattered by the stiff night wind.

“What do you think about the plan Night Ranger?”

“Don’t ask me, ask Francis. Besides, I don’t care what plan we come up with as long as we do something about the kids.”

“Even if it means some of us might be killed?”

Lynn did not answer Preacher Joe’s question but moved closer to Francis and gripped his left arm tighter, laying her head on his shoulder.

“That comes with the turf Joe. You should know that,” replied the Reaper.

“Yes I do. I haven’t lost as many friends in this struggle as every one else has. I fear that may compromise my thinking sometimes. This will be one dangerous operation no matter which course of action we follow.”

“Been there, done that,” said Lynn softly.

Joe laughed softly.

“You know, on nights like tonight, I prowl the streets of Sin City prison because of the light. I wonder if I am truly using the light when I kill three Latino King Gang members just for being in the wrong neighborhood or for roughing up another prisoner for some inane reason. It makes me wonder sometimes and the task is endless for one man.”

“We deal with those same thoughts. No matter how many federal troops and imported foreigners we manage to take out two more pop up in their place. Imagine how Amanda and Little Jimbo must feel. They have killed hundreds of thousands of the enemy but they still keep plugging along,” added Francis.

“I have followed each of the scouts exploits. You two seem to be more inclined to setting people free. Scott I can’t classify. He is known as the Liberator but maybe he should change his name to the Terminator. He too, rides to kill.”

“We have done our share of killing the enemy,” said Francis.

“I know. I miss riding. What I do in the prison has no effect in the struggle for freedom. I feel like I am exposing my life to danger and accomplishing nothing. In the past years, Sin City prison is still as violent and corrupt as can be except for the Dykes. If it weren’t for those women with their strong instinct to survive Zak and I would have you three ride along the top of the wall when the wind was right and lob your deadly bombs on the ground below.”

“You mean like tonight? The wind is blowing just right and in the proper direction if we were on the wall facing FEMA camp 37,” said the Night Ranger.

Preacher Joe paused and pulled a thin cigar our of his vest pocket. Francis gave him his cigar for a light.

“Precisely,” he answered, taking a deep breath.

The warden and the two scouts spent another three hours on the boulder in the night pulling guard duty. Nobody knew the warden and his friends were there except for God. They told stories and strengthened their friendship. Finally, it was time to go to the makeshift camp and notify Ringo and two of his men to take over.

As they entered the camp Lynn was chatting with Preacher Joe when the terrier, Tiger, rushed surprisingly to Jane and Emily’s tent. He quickly disappeared into the interior. Amidst the growling that occurred between two Jack Russell terriers the warden and two scouts could hear laughter. Tiger exited the tent and rushed to his master, Lynn.

“Whatever are you doing Tiger? That isn’t Ringo’s tent!” she said laughing.

As the warden and the two scouts were pouring a quick shot of Jack Daniels before retiring for the night, Ringo emerged from Janie and Emily’s tent. His long black hair was no longer in a nice, neat ponytail. He had a grin a mile wide on his face as he walked up to the three.

“I could use a shot of that whiskey before I pull guard duty,” he said.

“Uh, weren’t you in the wrong tent?” asked Lynn while handing him her cup of whiskey.

Ringo grinned sheepishly.

“We were just exchanging stories about what has happened recently. I haven’t seen those girls in six months.”

Francis and Joe just grinned but Lynn laughed loudly, especially when Janie and Emily poked their heads out of their tent. Everyone awake could tell the two female scouts were not clothed.

“I bet you exchanged more than stories Ringo,” said Lynn, while waving to her two friends.

The two women withdrew into their tent and Lynn could clearly hear them giggling.

“Good form Ringo. Jungen…schutzen,” said Lynn, pointing at Ringo.

“What did you just tell them to do?”

“I just told them to guard you for the night. If I were you I wouldn’t be trying to sneak into Jane and Em’s tent sometime tonight. I don’t think that little tent would hold three grown adults and two big German Shepherds,” answered Lynn.

“Thanks. With those two dogs I don’t think I need to wake up any help for guard duty.”

Lynn reached into her right jacket pocket and handed a fistful of dog biscuits to the half Indian.

“You need to take these for guard duty. Only give them a reward in case they detect something encroaching on our position, like a puma or a person. Most likely, they will be laying as close as they can get to you on whatever rock you decide to sit on tonight. Francis and I are going to take a long hot shower…together.”

“Glad to know that. I will be hitting the shower in a couple of hours too,” said Preacher Joe.

“What? You don’t look dirty at all especially your hair and you smell good. What is that? Old Spice?”

Joe grinned.

“Yes it is. That is what Uncle Dan uses and yes, I took a shower before heading here. But I can assure you that I will probably sweat a lot tonight.”

“I guess you are used to that air conditioned house you live in. We didn’t know if you were going back there or spending the night in the camp so we pitched a tent twenty feet away from ours,” said Lynn, pointing at the empty, isolated tent.

“I appreciate that Lynn. So, I will see everyone in the morning,” said Joe, handing back his empty cup after drinking the whiskey.

Then he turned and walked away in the wrong direction.

“Hey, Joe! It’s that tent over there,” said Lynn trying to be as quiet as possible.

He stood at the tent where Lydia and Sandra were sleeping in for a brief moment and then replied with a grin on his face.

“I have the right tent,” he said, before disappearing into the tent.

The Night Ranger and the Reaper proceeded to the men’s bathroom followed by their guard dog for the night, Tiger.

* * * * *

The sun had just cleared the Sunrise Mountains in the east in the clear blue Nevada sky. Most of the scouts had already broken down their tents and had their horses saddled and ready to travel. There were four tents still sitting on the sandy ground. Two of the tents had two German Shepherds each lying in front of their small zippered entrance. The remaining tent was also zippered. The tents belonged to the Reaper, Lydia, Calamity Jane and the Pale Rider. The Reaper crew was basically still sleeping. Everyone knew that the Reaper had a reputation for doing things the way he wanted to do. He was never in any hurry.

Ringo’s men were stoking the campfire and had numerous griddles and pans on the fire making breakfast. Ringo had raided Calamity Jane’s mule cart to get some supplies, good supplies that included pancake mix and syrup. His men were waiting around eagerly anticipating this morning’s meal.

Ringo’s notebook computer started to beep. He could clearly hear the device resting in his right saddle bag.

“I bet I know who that is!” exclaimed Ringo’s second in command, Maurice.

Maurice was a young man in his early twenties. He was one of the two thousand freed inmates from the second destruction of FEMA camp 37. He had decided to join the scouts of Free America and had been trained by Ringo, like many others. He had been transferred to FEMA camp 37 from the New Orleans FEMA camp. He was by all definitions a Cajun. He was also known to be a resourceful and dangerous scout, especially when it came to knives. Maurice had knife holsters on many parts of his torso.

“Why don’t you take the call Maurice? Tell the old man that I am using the bathroom in the tunnel to take a shower,” said Ringo.

“Okay. You are the boss.”

The young man arose from his boulder and went to Ringo’s horse and retrieved the beeping laptop.

He opened the lid of the laptop and Zak’s weathered face appeared on screen. The old man looked tired.

“Hi Maurice. I thought I was linking up with Ringo’s computer! I guess I fucked up because I have been up all night long.”

“No, you have the right computer Zak. Ringo is …busy.”

“Okay, he’s busy! What the hell is he busy with?”

“He’s taking a shower…I think.”

“You think? Aren’t you his right hand man Maurice? Haven’t you been his right hand man since you started riding with him two years ago?”

“Well, yeah, but he told me that he was going to take a shower before we moved to wherever the hell we are going to.”

“Okay. Could you please, please go get Joe or Francis for me?”

“Uh, they are in their tents and I think they are still sleeping. They both pulled guard duty last night.”

“Damn it! I don’t care what they did last night! I need to talk to one of them right now! So what if they pulled some candy ass guard duty out in the middle of the desert! What the fuck! Francis has the damn dogs, what the hell did they do last night, piss on every cactus in Nevada? Go wake them up Maurice!”

“Yes sir.”

Maurice placed the notebook on a boulder and was careful to aim the video camera at a nearby wall of the desert ravine. As he tip toed away he could hear Zak’s voice blasting from the tiny speakers.

“Maurice! Maurice! Turn that computer around so I can see the camp! Maurice!”

Ringo was standing behind his horse with a grin on his face. Maurice tip toed up to his leader.

“What now?” asked Maurice.

“Fuck if I know. Listen to him! He is going to fracture my speakers,” said Ringo.

Out of one of the tents emerged the Pale Rider. Her hair was disheveled and she was tucking her riding shirt in her pants.

“Oh, thank God,” said Ringo.

“What is all the noise and commotion about? What time is it?” she demanded.

“It is six in the morning and Zak is on my computer. He wants to speak with Francis or Joe and he is in one of his gung ho moods. He has been up all night doing something and he certainly looks like it.”

“Dammit Ringo! When are you going to learn to take the batteries out of your notebook computer before you bed down for the night? Lynn figured that out a year ago and it works. Since then, Jimbo and I never get any computer beeps until we want to get computer beeps. I am going to get another hour of sleep!”

The Pale Rider turned and started back to her tent.

“Please Amanda! Help me out here! Zak will speak with you! Either go wake up Francis or Joe or go talk to Zak on my computer! Please!”

Amanda turned and glared at Ringo.

“All right Ringo. I owe you for what you have done for me in the past but if I do this we are square. Agreed?”

“That is the deal! I agree!”

Amanda walked across the campsite, sat down on the boulder Maurice had placed the laptop on and turned the computer to face her.

“What do you want Zak?” she said calmly.

“What in the hell is going on down there? You aren’t Francis and you certainly don’t look like Joe. Go wake either one of them up…now!” he ordered.

“Both of them pulled guard duty last night and they were busy most of the night. Tell me what you want to know and when they get up I will tell them to give you a ring.”

The scouts watching Amanda could see the anger on the Pale Rider’s face.

“Old man, I love you dearly but when are you going to learn to quit talking to me like that? Hey, do any of you scouts have a spare laptop in your saddle bags?”

Several scouts sitting around the campfire raised the hands. Almost all of them had grins displayed on their faces. They were enjoying this show.

“Good,” said Amanda.

The Pale Rider stood up to where Zak could clearly see her and drew her pistol from her right holster.

“I will let them know right away Zak,” she answered sweetly.

Then she blasted the computer screen with not one shot, but three.

She strolled up to Ringo.

“I owe you a laptop Ringo. I have a backup somewhere in my saddle bags. You boys need to start taking the batteries out of your notebooks if you want to get a little extra shut eye every now and then.”

Then Amanda went back into her two man tent where Little Jimbo was now awake.

“Holy shit!” said Maurice.

Ringo was laughing.

“I love that woman!”

It took two minutes for Francis and Joe to emerge from their tents. Both men were wide awake.

When Amanda blasted the notebook computer the two newer German Shepherds, Thor and Jake, jumped to all fours and were standing guard in front of Jane and Emily’s tent and acting very nervous. The two older German Shepherds, Major and Sarge, were still lying in front of Lynn’s tent with their heads resting on their forepaws. The only thing they had moved during Amanda’s tirade was their ears. They had traveled with the Pale Rider many times before.

“What in the hell were the gunshots about?” asked Joe.

“Amanda and Zak were having their usual conversation,” he said pointing at his laptop that was in pieces lying on the desert floor.

Francis laughed softly.

“Damn! Lynn has done that twice in the last year. What did the old man want?”

“He wanted to speak with either you or Joe. I didn’t see him but Maurice did. He told me the old man said he had been up all night.”

“So what? That is easy to do sitting in an easy chair at the secondary base. What did he tell Amanda?”

“I don’t know. You will have to ask her. She went back in her tent,” replied Ringo.

Both Francis and Joe turned to look at the Pale Rider’s tent.

“I ain’t going over there to rouse her. You can do that Joe,” said Francis.

“I ain’t that stupid Francis. Ringo, I want you and your men to have a nice, relaxing breakfast and play some cards, finish off what remains in the two Jack Daniels bottles if you want. I am going back in my tent and get a little more shut eye. Wake me up at eight o’clock,” said Joe.

“Me too Ringo. And tell the men to take the batteries out of their notebook computers for now,” added Francis.

As the two men moved to return to their respective tents Ringo’s men scrambled to their horses to remove the batteries from their notebook computers.

* * * * *

It was getting close to ten o’clock in the morning when Ringo decided he had better wake up the members of the Reaper crew. His men were starting to get restless. He walked over to Francis’s tent where the two big German Shepherds were still lying on the ground in front of the zippered entrance.

“Jungen…erwachen!” he said, pointing at the tent.

Then he gave the big dogs a biscuit each.

The two German Shepherds took the dog biscuits and quickly devoured them. Then they started to bark at the entrance to the tent.

Soon, Lynn pulled the zipper down on the flaps and stuck her head out.

“Lynn, it is time to get going. It is near ten o’clock,” said Ringo.

“Holy shit! Really? I am sorry Ringo. We will be right out.”

Maurice sauntered up to Ringo.

“I didn’t know you knew German Ringo!”

“I learned a few words. You have to learn a few words when you travel with Francis.”

Ten minutes later the Reaper crew along with Preacher Joe were up and eating a late breakfast while several of Ringo’s scouts volunteered to break down their tents and get their horses and mules ready to travel.

“Thanks for the assist Ringo. We were kind of tired this morning,” said Francis.

“Weren’t you tired this morning Ringo?” asked Lynn with a grin on her face.

“Nope. I fell asleep out on the boulder with the German Shepherds last night while on guard duty. I came down to the camp and got Thor and Jake to help out. I actually slept well.”

“And you Joe?” asked Lynn.

“Never better. So, who is gonna’ call Zak this morning?”

“He’s your uncle and we are going into your prison. You are the one who needs to call the old man,” said Amanda.

“After you shot him in the face?”

The scouts eating a late breakfast laughed.

“Hell yeah. He probably found out something important that we should know about before going into Sin City prison. I will admit that I have seen a lot of bad things in my life but I was having nightmares last night about Sin City prison,” replied Amanda.

“Me, too, after listening to some of the tales Lydia and Sandra have been telling us about,” added Lynn.

“Fuck it! I will get in contact with the old man,” said Francis.

The Reaper arose from his stool and went to Two. He grabbed his notebook computer and went back to his place by the campfire. Many of Ringo’s men moved close to where Francis was sitting, at least within earshot range of the tiny computer’s speakers.

Francis placed his battery into the machine and powered it up. He removed one of his Colt 1911’s from one of his holsters and began to expertly twirl the weapon in his right hand while still munching on a butter biscuit. Within two minutes he had Zak’s face on screen. He had positioned the notebook computer in front of him to where he was sure Zak could see him twirling the pistol.

“Okay Zak, I am up for the day. What is so important that you wake me early?”

Many of Ringo’s men along with the female scouts around the campfire made severe attempts to stifle their laughter. Francis was not smiling.

“Good lord man! Are you going to sleep through this war?”

“I wish I could. I have a damn good sleeping partner. What do you want?”

“I was up all night negotiating with the leader of the Dykes!”

“Are we talking about your ex?”

“Yes.”

“Why was she sent to Sin City prison? Was she found guilty by a jury of living with you?”

“Gee, that is real funny Francis! She was sent to Sin City because she cheated on her taxes!”

“She was sent to Sin City for that? Holy shit!”

“She lived in New York City. She is one of those negotiated transfers with the federal government. I hope Texas got a lot of money for taking her cantankerous ass. Anyways, to make a long story short, Free America has to do some things on the supply side in agreement for the Dykes to take in the kids. I got some things in return however.”

“What was that and what did you give away old man?” asked Francis.

Francis was always suspicious of any deals the old man made.

“We are gonna’ get them some necessary building supplies, medical supplies and stuff like that. Nevada has plenty of gold and silver now thanks to the mines we have seized to purchase anything we need. In exchange, she has agreed to take the kids and change the name of the gang she runs. I thought that would be a good start to an already strained relationship.”

“What did you give away Zak?”

Zak fidgeted in his seat for a moment or two.

“That’s why I wanted to speak with Joe. He runs the place. I just wanted to find out if there is a big access gate on Boulder Highway that has never been used and if we can use it. Where is that damn nephew of mine? Was he cavorting with some of his inmates last night?”

Joe moved from where he was standing and sat down on the boulder next to Francis.

“I am here Uncle Zak and yes I was fraternizing with some of my friends last night. Remember? They are no longer inmates of Sin City prison. You pardoned them in Arizona two or three days ago. What do you want to know?”

“Sandra and Lydia?”

“That is none of your business Uncle,” answered Joe while removing one of his Mac Ten machine guns and twirling the weapon in his fingers near his face.

“Okay nephew, it was nothing personal. We don’t need to be losing two notebook computers today. At least, if it was those two women, I can’t blame you. You have a good taste for good looking women. Is that gate operable?”

“I reckon it is. It has never been opened since Sin City prison was put in operation. The key is back in my safe at Uncle Dan’s house.”

“We will figure out how to open it then if there is a gate. Tomorrow afternoon twenty semi trucks will be arriving at that gate from Phoenix with supplies for the gang. What is on the official manifests and what is reality are two different things. We need to wave them on through to get to the Fontainebleau.”

“This is beginning to sound like one of your infamous wing it plans Uncle Zak.”

“You won’t think so once you find out what is in those trailers.”

“Hmm, let me guess. I would say as first response…weapons?”

“Well, there might be a few weapons like surface to air launchers but there is also diesel generators for power, air conditioners, electrical supplies, solar panels, medical supplies, food, stuff like that. There are also six tanker trucks on the way. The Family has no electricity and they aren’t even aware that two eight inch wells were dug on their property for water. There are some big pumps in one of those trailers.”

“Damn Uncle Zak! That is great news.”

“Uh, wait a minute! You just said the family. What in the hell is the family?” asked Francis.

Zak once again fidgeted in his seat, looking off screen at the wall. Then he turned back to face the camera.

“You heard me. The Dykes will no longer go by the name Dykes when this is all over. The gang is now known as the Family or will be soon. That kind of fits in with Las Vegas. That was part of the deal. I figured you would pull a stunt like this today so I arranged with Tricia for your party to meet your escort where Boulder Highway runs into the big wall. You are to meet up with the Family at twelve noon. Don’t be late Francis!”

Then Zak’s transmission went dead.

* * * * *

Chapter Fourteen

Vegas Ain’t What It Used to Be

Francis and the scouts had exited the door to the tunnel and were in the wide concrete drainage field. Francis was patiently waiting on Two at the front of the party for everyone to clear. Wiley was on his horse waiting for the last scout to exit the tile tunnel. Once everyone had exited Wiley shut the door. The new scout heard two distinct clicks and then signaled Francis.

“That’s everyone Francis! We are ready to ride!” exclaimed Wiley.

Wiley spurred his horse to ride along with Lynn and Francis. Francis turned in his saddle and looked at the lengthy line of scouts.

“Damn! I don’t like this. It is like being in a fucking Rose Bowl parade without all the flowers.”

“Relax lover, everyone has their headlamps on full and it doesn’t smell as bad as I thought it would smell,” said Lynn.

“How far to daylight Joe?” asked Francis.

“It’s a little over a mile. Watch out for three low concrete beams. Everyone will have to duck under them if they are on a horse. Other than that it is an easy ride or walk.”

Francis spurred Two and slowly headed in a westerly direction in the oversized drainage ditch. He was in no hurry.

Fifteen minutes later he could see daylight at the end of the tunnel.

“When Las Vegas was booming homeless people used to live in these wide tunnels. When it rained its no telling how many of them wound up in the wash drowned,” said Joe as the group rode to daylight.

“That is awful!” exclaimed Lynn.

“At one time Las Vegas was a heartless town.’

“I think it still is from what I have heard,” interjected Wiley.

Joe looked at Wiley and said not a word but nodded his head yes.

Soon the group entered into daylight in a wide concrete lined drainage canal. There was a six inch stream of water less that half and inch deep flowing in the center.

“There is not much water now but when it does rain you don’t want to be here. I have seen the water rise to the height of a man and it flows fast, very fast. If you fall in you are dead,” said Joe.

“What? It gets that way after it rains a day or two?” asked Lynn.

Joe shook his head no.

“It gets that way in ten minutes anywhere you are located in Sin City prison. It has always been that way. Up ahead there is a drainage ramp that we can ride out of this concrete death trap. The guards will be able to spot us easily but as of today they are our guards,” said Preacher Joe.

Joe spurred his horse into a trot. After one hundred yards he pulled his reins to the right and spurred his horse harder. Francis continued to follow at a slow walk with Two. He was in no hurry. Once he arrived at the ramp he saw Joe on the high ground. He pulled his reins to the right and eased Two up the concrete incline, then stopped and waited for everyone else to make the ascent. After five minutes everyone was on the high ground inside Sin City prison. It was an eerie feeling to every scout looking at the big wall that ran for as far as the eye could see to the south and the north.

“I have to tell you Joe, this place is creepy,” said Lynn.

“Just wait until it gets dark.”

“What time is it anyone?” asked Francis.

“It is eleven o’clock. What are we going to do? Are we going to wait here like sitting ducks or are we going to be moving?” asked Ringo.

The Indian blood in the scout was sounding an alarm. He wasn’t happy with this position not being in any mountainous terrain.

“Lydia! Are we supposed to follow that four lane road to your hangout? Which building is the clubhouse?” asked Francis.

While Lydia rode up the column to join him Lynn, Janie and Emily were pulling out their Big X chain guns. They were sensing danger like Ringo. Soon all the scouts had their AK47s in their hands. No one knew why but every experienced scout had an uneasy feeling.

“That is Boulder Highway and that is what we have to travel down. The big dark building to the right off in the distance is our clubhouse,” answered Lydia pointing at the Fontainebleau Tower.

“That looks to be a good ways away,” said Wiley.

“It is from here.”

Lynn looked up at the wall which was five hundred yards away and saw two men standing directly above the massive metal gate that barred Boulder Highway. The two men waved so she waved back.

“I think those two guards are waving at you Warden Pendarvis,” said the Night Ranger.

Joe removed a small radio from one of his pockets. He soon began to converse with the two men on the wall for two minutes.

“Those are two of my new guards from the Texas Tough Guys. They just warned me that there are a lot of men in the ditch up ahead of us a half mile to the left of Boulder Highway. They said they are carrying clubs of wood and steel.”

“What are they, stupid?” asked Francis.

“Worse. They are probably mentally ill. They want to take one of the dogs or horses to eat. We call them the crazies here in Sin City. They will eat anything they can kill.”

“Anything? What about people?” asked Janie.

“Anything, including people Calamity Jane. They never make the trip to the train yard for food. It is too far from here and they feel it is too dangerous. Sometimes they kill one of their own to eat. I don’t get out in this area often, only when I visit Uncle Dan. I have killed quite a few of them who have tried to take me down the past five years,” answered Joe.

“Swell,” muttered Lynn.

Lynn looked through the scope on her Big X and could see several heads peeking out of a ditch on the left of Boulder Highway a half a mile away.

“I see the men. I could probably pick them off from here but I will wait until we get closer. Nobody fucks with my animals!”

Then she spurred Butch towards Boulder Highway.

“I guess we ain’t waiting here for the escort Joe,” said Francis.

The two leaders watched as the column of scouts begin to follow Lynn to the four lane highway two hundred yards away.

“I guess not. We might as well head down Boulder. It will save us an hour,” answered Joe.

When the column of scouts arrived at Boulder Highway, the Night Ranger personality was in full bloom. Lynn held up her right hand to instruct everyone to stop. Francis and Joe followed behind the group of scouts.

“Jungen…schwul, der spaher, spitzen!” she yelled.

The two Jack Russell terriers immediately left the comfortable confines of Jane and Lynn’s saddle bags and joined their big German Shepherd brothers on the highway. The six dogs worked as a team and started to move ahead of the column of scouts staying within fifty yards of the one who had given them the command.

“What did you just tell them to do Lynn?” asked Wiley riding next to the brunette.

“I told them to stay close, to scout and to point if they found something. Get your Ak47 in your hands and use your scope. If you see one of our dogs stop and lift his right front leg look in the same direction he is looking. Shoot what they are pointing at because it is not good. Things are too quiet for a prison holding two million inmates. I don’t see anyone walking on this big wide highway and you can see ahead for five or six miles.”

Wiley turned and reached around to the rear of his horse to retrieve his assault rifle. When he did, he saw that he was the last to have a rifle in his hands. Every scout in the column had a rifle in their hands except for Francis and Joe. The two men were bringing up the rear of the column and the only thing they had in their hands were the reins for their horses.

Little Jimbo spurred his horse ahead of the column to ride twenty yards in front, closing the gap between the scouts and the dogs. Lynn spurred Butch and did the same.

The column of scouts rode another one quarter mile when suddenly Amanda, Janie and Emily on their horses bolted ahead. At the same moment, Francis could hear Lynn yell bleiben to the dogs. She spurred Butch along with Little Jimbo into a full gallop down Boulder Highway. When Lynn did that Francis spurred Two into a full gallop and Joe quickly did the same.

“What the fuck is going on?” yelled Joe.

“I don’t know but it ain’t good,” said Francis taking out two of his Colt 1911 pistols.

Joe removed both of his Mac 10 guns holding one in each hand . In his small guns were one hundred round clips.

Sandra and Lydia pulled up beside the two men on their horses.

“It’s an ambush! I looked through my scope and saw a ton of crazy heads crouched down in the ditch!” she yelled.

Francis was at a full gallop on Two and he watched as his young wife suddenly stood in her stirrups and activated her Big X chain gun on full automatic fire as hundreds of bodies poured out of the drainage ditch on the left side of Boulder Highway. He was shocked to see the ditch ran for a good two hundred yards and that it was full of men that were dressed in rags and looked like they had not had a bath in weeks. All of the men had a club of some type in their hands.

When the crazies started to pour out of the ditch Jane and Emily opened up with their chain guns along with Amanda and Jimbo with the seventy round clips on their Ak47s. Unsightly men kept arising from the ditch screaming loudly, waving their weapons over their heads while charging across the south lane of Boulder Highway and falling to the ground once meeting a bullet. Lynn finally expended her seven hundred and fifty round drum. The Night Ranger reloaded quickly with another. By the time she was ready to fire again there were several crazies less than ten feet away from Butch. She opened up with her deadly weapon once again at point blank range. Jane and Emily continued to fire cutting down men rushing Lynn’s position. Amanda pulled up beside Lynn and threw several pipe bombs high into the air to land fifty feet away in the ditch on the left side of Boulder Highway. Her bombs were set to explode on contact and they proved to be effective. The bodies and parts of bodies flew high into the air. The blasts temporarily stopped the charge of the crazed men. Soon, the McFoster brothers along with Ringo and his twenty nine scouts joined the battle as the wave of men continued to pour out of the ditch unfazed by the wall of lead that was cutting them down. All of the crazies were carrying pipes or clubs of many types. The three women with the chain guns continued to fire. Francis and Joe pulled up behind Lynn and opened up with their weapons. Francis could only kill fourteen men at a time but Joe was another story. He had faced this threat before but to a lesser degree. The warden opened up with his small, effective machine guns, sweeping back and forth with each of his small weapons. Expending his clips he reloaded, somehow, in an instant. Ten seconds later the battle was over. Hundreds of men lay on the south side of Boulder Highway, screaming in pain and some were just twitching during their final moments of life. The scouts regrouped in the middle of the four lane road and Lynn quickly turned to check on her dogs.

“Fuck!” she yelled as she looked down the highway.

The six animals were running down the highway in her direction as fast as they could run. They were being chased by a hundred men with clubs. She quickly turned Butch around before anyone could react and rushed toward her animals. While standing in her stirrups she threw her spent drum to the ground and reloaded quickly. As her dogs rushed by her she opened up on the pursuing men cutting them down like paper. She brought Butch to a halt in the middle of the highway to survey her work. Then she opened up with her Big X chain gun on the thrashing bodies on the highway until she unnecessarily spent her third drum tearing the still bodies on the roadway into pieces. Once she was finished she looked down to see that her left hand was burned. She had not had the time to don her gloves. Blisters were already starting to form on her fingers and the palm of her left hand. It was at that moment her left hand started to throb.

She ignored the pain…for now.

Francis pulled up beside her on Two.

“You burned your hand didn’t you?” he asked jumping off Two.

“I did but I don’t feel any pain.”

Francis looked at her hand.

“Shit! You will soon. I would say that you overreacted to the threat. The dogs were outrunning those men.”

Francis moved to Two and quickly removed his first aid kit from a saddle bag. He used a tube of goo and squeezed the ointment over her fingers and the palm of her hand. Then he wrapped her left hand in antiseptic gauze.

“Damn woman! We were still a quarter of a mile away from the crazies and the dogs were just fifty yards in front of us! You could have stopped and said something so we could prepare! What the hell has gotten into you? You won’t be able to use a gun in that hand for awhile and it is gonna’ start hurting like hell in about fifteen minutes!”

Janie and Emily pulled up behind Francis. The two women had taken the time to don their gloves.

“I was worried about my babies!” said Lynn through gritted teeth.

The pain was starting to set in.

“Here, take two of these,” said Francis.

Lynn took the aspirin sized pills and swallowed them without any water. The rest of the troop of scouts pulled up to surround Lynn including the German Shepherds and terriers.

“I will be okay! It just stings for now!”

“How bad is she injured?” ask Preacher Joe.

“She has a second degree burns on her fingers and palm. She will shed some skin but it will be replaced. She is lucky there weren’t more men than what there was,” answered Francis.

Everyone could tell that Francis was slightly perturbed, which, for Francis would equate to someone being really pissed off.

Lydia and Sandra’s faces were ashen white.

“Is it like this all the time in this hellhole?” said Amanda loudly.

The Pale Rider knew that this incident was too close for comfort.

“I have never seen anything like this since I have been here! I have run across some crazies before but never such a large group as this!” exclaimed Lydia.

“Me either. There were at least two thousand crazies down in the ditch. When that many crazies get together there is usually some killing going on in the group. Those men would have wiped out the five hundred women escort in a matter of minutes. They must have known the Dykes were coming down this road at noon,” said Preacher Joe.

“Then it’s a good thing we decided to head on down the highway before more of them arrived,” said Wiley.

Joe said nothing but nodded his head yes. His mind was racing trying to figure out what had just happened, in broad daylight.

“Someone must have tipped those fuckers off about the escort. If we had waited down the road, by the time we got here to help the girls they would have been beaten to death and dragged off,” said Sandra.

“That’s what I’m thinking. What benefit would it be for someone in the Dykes to tip them off,” said Joe.

“Maybe it wasn’t one of the Dykes. Maybe it was one of the male gangs who instigated this attack,” interjected Lydia.

Francis pulled a cigar from his vest pocket and struck a match. Lighting his cigar he blew a smoke ring.

“Somewhere and somehow our communications have been compromised,” he said blowing a smoke ring in the air.

“I don’t think so. Data goes to great lengths to secure our communications and that hasn’t happened since I have been scouting!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I wasn’t talking about Free America. I was talking about whoever is in charge of communications in that tall damn building.”

“I didn’t know that we could communicate with anyone on the outside until I heard Zak say he had been up all night working out details with Tricia!” said Sandra.

“There you go,” said Francis.

“Do you two know this woman…well?” asked Janie.

“No…I don’t. I was just a foot soldier,” said Lydia.

“I don’t know her that well either. She would be at our captain’s meeting every now and then but she didn’t say much and that didn’t happen often. She hasn’t said much to me for the past four years,” added Sandra.

“I see a bunch of women on bicycles pedaling in our direction,” said Ringo.

Everyone turned to look in the belly of the valley and saw two long lines of bikes moving towards them.

“I think when they get here the scene is going to make them think. There are easily over a thousand dead bodies on the highway and no telling how many are in that long ditch. I am sure when they see that they are gonna’ start wondering,” said Wiley.

“Can you ride Lynn?” asked Francis.

“I am fine. The pills must be working because my hand stings just a little!” replied the Night Ranger testily.

“Woo hoo! A little on the grouchy side now!” exclaimed Janie.

“I am fine Janie!”

“You won’t be later on tonight when you find out you can’t hold any pee pee for a while, at least with that left hand,” said the red headed scout laughing.

Her comment caused everyone present to laugh, including Lynn, who began to blush.

“Shut up Janie! Let’s ride down to meet our new friends. I want to hear what they think about all these dead men strewn across Boulder Highway,” responded Lynn.

“Crazies,” uttered Lydia.

“What?” asked Wiley.

“Those aren’t men. Those dead people in the road are what we call the crazies. Most of them are mentally ill and a lot of them are cannibals, hungry cannibals in Sin City.”

“Real nice prison you have here Preacher Joe. Is it like this all over in this place?” asked Ringo.

“No, in some places it is worse, a lot worse.”

“Swell,” sighed the half breed.

“I know one thing, we are gonna’ have to do something and we are gonna’ have to do something quick,” said Amanda.

“What are you talking about?” asked Joe.

“Think about it warden. What if this happened while we were escorting a bunch of kids down this highway just now? Didn’t you say it gets worse at night?”

Amanda’s comment caused everyone to shudder. What she had just said was true.

“Amanda’s right! What would we have done if we had a bunch of kids just now walking down this highway? Surely, a lot of them would have been clubbed to death and many would have been carted off to be eaten. This is a dangerous fucking place! And we are thinking of taking a bunch of kids into this place! We need to take care of some pressing problems before we bring kids in here!” yelled Wiley.

“What do you think Francis?” asked Amanda.

Francis paused, like he always did before answering any question.

“I reckon we need to do a lot of killing in this town. There are two million people in this prison. I think we need to give new meaning to what goes on in Vegas stays in Vegas. It is gonna’ be one stinking hellhole for a few months if we do that.”

Lynn slowly turned her horse and headed down Boulder Highway to meet the arriving escort. The column of scouts followed her silently.

Sitting on Butch with her bandaged left hand she halted her ride in the middle of the dead bodies on Boulder Highway waiting to meet the women riding towards her on bikes.

Francis, Ringo and Joe pulled up on their horses beside her.

“Once these women get here they are going to realize we saved their lives today. I can’t wait until they tell me they are indebted. I have something for them to do today right now,” said Lynn.

“What’s that baby?” asked Francis looking at his young lady with some concern creeping across his face.

“You are going to have to do something too.”

“Okay, tell me.”

“I am going to instruct all of the women to grab these bodies and throw them in that ditch. We can’t be bringing little kids down this road with dead bodies lying everywhere.”

“I agree. Even at night they will see them,” said Ringo.

“Then I need you to speak with Zak, Francis. We will need twenty gallons of kerosene to burn these bodies in the ditch sometime soon before they really stink up this part of the prison.”

“I can help there. I have a hundred gallon tank on that limousine and Uncle Danny has a few ten gallon cans to hold gasoline. We can get on that first thing in the morning,” said Joe.

“Good. There is one more thing we need to do tonight. We need to get a hold of Data and find out how to rig one of our notebook computers to intercept any, and I mean any, wireless communications coming out of the Dyke’s or Family’s tower right now. If there is a saboteur they will be making a report to whoever was behind this ambush but I think I know who it is already. If they are in that tall tower they have probably been able to see this little skirmish with a pair of binoculars,” said Lynn.

“I think we all have a pretty good idea who set this up. I will have Maurice get in touch with Data right now,” said Ringo.

“You are thinking of Zak’s ex aren’t you?” asked Joe.

“Did you know her?” asked Lynn.

“I never met her. Zak has been married and divorced several times since then. He must be a difficult man to live with,” replied the warden.

Lynn turned to face her man and then rolled her brown eyes.

“He may have pissed her off really bad. What do you think honey?” asked Lynn.

“I reckon so. I think we will find out tonight.”

“Things are happening quickly in a fucked up, confined place. I think the shit will be hitting the fan soon,” said the pretty brunette.

* * * * *

Chapter Fifteen

The Crazies of Sin City

Disposing the bodies of the crazies hadn’t taken the members of the Dykes long to throw into the ditch running along Boulder Highway to the south. Walking along the wide ditch Francis and Joe saw that the bodies were stacked upon one another six or seven deep for two hundred feet. There was no telling how many men the scouts had just killed but the tally was high. What the two scouts noticed that there were no female bodies in the desert ditch. The task had only taken the foot soldiers of the Dykes ten minutes.

What impressed the Pale Rider and the Night Ranger was the women had also gathered up the clubs, pipes and crude knives the crazies had wielded in the attack to show the scouts how dangerous a place Sin City prison was. Some of the weapons looked wicked. A single blow to a person’s head would result in instant death with almost every weapon.

“Imagine getting hit hard in the leg with this,” said Wiley holding a wooden stick with large four inch nails sticking out of the weapon in every direction.

He then threw the club into the ditch with some velocity that was containing the dead bodies. The club stuck in the back of a dead crazy lying at the top of the pile.

“Let’s get moving! And stay alert even with this large escort! We still have eleven miles to travel in this place. Keep those chain guns across the saddles and your automatics within reach. There may be some more surprises down this road,” ordered Francis while mounting Two.

“How many drums do we have left for the chain guns?” asked the Pale Rider.

“We each have two. We need some time to reload. I have the ammo on the mule cart if you want to stop and do that,” answered Lynn.

“Fuck this! The wind is starting to blow from the south. Francis, just keep your eyes and everyone else’s searching to the left. Me and Jimbo will take care of the north side of this fucking highway!” exclaimed the Pale Rider.

Then she and Little Jimbo spurred their horses and put their rides into a fast trot, leaving the bike escort and the column of scouts behind heading west on Boulder Highway to downtown Las Vegas.

Wiley pulled up beside Francis.

“Where is Amanda and Jimbo riding off to?”

“They are riding off to start and finish a fight. That is what they do.”

“Don’t you think someone should go along with them?”

Francis looked at Wiley with his left eyebrow arched.

“Sure. Go ahead with them and try not to get killed. If you do what they tell you to do you should be okay and you might learn something.”

“Can I take Major and Sarge with me?” asked Wiley.

Francis sighed.

“You will have to ask Lynn about that.”

Wiley spurred his horse forward to ride beside Lynn. His horse trotted beside the Night Ranger for a short moment. Then he spurred his horse and took off down Boulder Highway. Francis just laughed when Lynn stopped her horse. Francis pulled up beside her.

“So, what did you tell him?”

“I told him to get his own damn dogs! Those are my, uh, our dogs!”

“I thought you would tell him that.”

Lydia pulled her horse up to the Night Ranger and Francis.

“Something is going on. I see my former sisters riding the bikes without their hands and loading their pneumatic bows with four arrow racks for quick kills. The foot soldiers are acting nervous.”

“Why would they be doing that?” asked Lynn sitting in her saddle casually holding her reins in her uninjured right hand.

“They might be worried about what lies ahead of us. We will be coming up on Sam Boyd Stadium in another mile or so. That has been a known hangout for the crazies on this side of town every since Sin City prison went into operation. Joe can tell you more.”

“Joe!” yelled the Night Ranger.

Joe spurred his borrowed horse to pull up alongside the trio.

“Someone yell my name?”

“I did. What is this Sam Boyd Stadium I just heard about?” asked Lynn.

Joe laughed.

“You don’t want to go to any night events in that place, I can tell you that. That is a well known crazy site. On some of my patrols I sneaked in to prowl on the upper levels of Sam Boyd Stadium when the crazies staged some of their fight to the death matches. The winner would get the loser’s body as the prize. There are a bunch of crazy mother fuckers on this side of town. The crazies only stage those events at night when the moon is full and when they have a big supply of torches. Why?”

“How many of the crazies are there?” asked Francis.

“There is no telling out of two million inmates. I have seen Sam Boyd Stadium with thousands of them some nights, especially when there was more than one fight. Don’t you know? Las Vegas was known for fights before the economic collapse.”

“Swell,” sighed Lynn.

“What are you worried about? The wind is blowing to the north and it’s pretty stiff right now. Amanda knows that,” answered Francis.

“There is a big field between Boulder Highway and the stadium. It is a good mile wide and a good mile deep. There are no trees, no rocks and no nothing. There is no drainage ditch on either side of the road,” said Joe.

“It must be a tough place to sneak into,” said Lynn.

“Not a night. At least from the west,” said Joe.

“I hear something like drums!” exclaimed Lynn.

“That is the crazies! They like to beat on trash lids and aluminum trash barrels when they are about to attack!” exclaimed Lydia.

Suddenly two hundred or so of the Dykes accelerated ahead on their bikes leaving half of their number behind to continue the scout escort. Lynn quickly reached in her saddle bag and removed her binoculars. Looking ahead she could see Amanda sitting on Spooky along with Little Jimbo on his horse facing to the north, in the direction the wind was blowing.

In the Pale Rider’s hands was a long pole. Suddenly, she unfurled a flag and stuck the long stick in the ground. It was the Pale Rider’s trademark move. She was flying the Free America flag.

“There is definitely trouble ahead. Amanda just stuck her flag into the ground,” said Lynn.

“Shouldn’t we get on down there to help out!” exclaimed Lydia.

“She has help. Wiley just arrived and the bikes are not far behind. Those women on those bikes can move fast I will say that,” said Lynn.

Lydia motioned for Sandra and the two women took off at a gallop.

“They may get there in time to see some action,” said Francis watching them leave.

“Aren’t you guys worried?” asked Joe.

“With Amanda and Little Jimbo down there sitting in the road with her flag unfurled? Hell no! She is warning the crazies to leave! Trust me, that stadium and field is gonna’ be stinking up the place and that field you described is going to be  home for a hell of a flock of vultures and buzzards for a while. I sure hope the wind is blowing in the same direction when we bring those kids to the Fontainebleau,” answered Lynn.

* * * * *

Lydia and Sandra reined in their horses and pulled up alongside Amanda. What Lydia saw alarmed both her and Sandra. In front of Sam Boyd Stadium amassed in the paved parking lot next to the large field was a mass of men standing in a long line beating on trash lids and metal drums. It was a motley assemblage of mankind.

“Holy shit! I have never seen so many crazies in one place at the same time!” exclaimed Lydia.

Amanda continued to calmly gaze to the north while sitting on Spooky. Jimbo seemed unfazed while smoking a cigarette.

“Lydia, tell whoever is in charge of your sister soldiers to not, I repeat not, cross the gutter in front of us,” ordered Little Jimbo.

Lydia and Sandra both moved to the left and right to spread the word as the beating on the trash lids grew louder. They returned within twenty seconds.

“We have relayed your order. The crazies are getting ready to charge!” exclaimed Sandra.

Amanda spoke once.

“Do you want me to reward your sister soldiers with some kills or do you want me and Little Jimbo to kill them all?”

Lydia looked with disbelief at the blond haired woman who was patiently waiting on her white horse of death. She was calm, very calm.

“I guess let them kill most of them.”

Amanda laughed.

“You and your sister soldiers won’t have enough arrows and you won’t have the much of a chance by the time those fuckers get across that field. I guess I should rephrase my question. Is there a need to retrieve what arrows are used?”

The beating of the drums grew more intense and the sequence of the drumbeat accelerated.

“Never mind,” said Amanda.

The large group of men charged out of the parking lot and headed across the big open field yelling and screaming. Immediately a volley of aluminum arrows streamed through the air felling many. There were three more volleys and hundreds of crazies fell to the ground with each volley only to be replaced by the ones behind them. The Dykes quickly reloaded and fired again with the same result. By this time the mass of men were now halfway across the open area and closing rapidly.

The Dykes quickly reloaded their pneumatic bows again but this time several were beginning to panic. Amanda could tell because many of the women were looking at the charging men and having difficulty loading their weapons. The female warriors were losing their ability to focus.

“It is time Jimbo,” said the Pale Rider.

Little Jimbo held a small black box in his left hand. He pressed a red button on the box and calmly drew a breath on his cigarette. A majority of the Dykes had managed to successfully reload their pneumatic bows and fired at the mass of screaming crazies less than a hundred yards away. Two hundred or more men hit the ground but the mass kept charging in the direction of the Pale Rider and her flag flying in the air beside Spooky.

Wiley was constantly firing off his Ak47, going through one fifty round clip and loading another.

“You’re wasting ammo Wiley!” yelled Little Jimbo who was still, calmly smoking his cigarette.

When the charging front line of men with angry looks on their faces were within thirty yards of Boulder Highway they started falling to the ground grabbing their throats and gasping for precious, clean air. The men behind them did the same. Soon the field was filled with the bodies of lifeless men. None were even twitching.

Wiley, Lydia and Sandra watched as the odorless, colorless poison did its job, spreading deep into the mass of crazed men as the men kept charging. In one minute the attack ceased and the once vacant field was now littered with dead men sprawled on the ground.

Wiley, Lydia and Sandra, along with the frightened Dykes had learned one lesson. The female scout known as the Pale Rider played rough, real rough.

“All in a day’s work,” said Jimbo, spurring his horse to get the flag, roll it up and place in his woman’s saddle bag holster.

“Damn Amanda! How many bombs did you set off?” asked Wiley.

Many of the Dykes were looking across the field of dead bodies and then were turning to stare at the woman on the white horse.

“No one move across the gutter! That poison will drift northward for two hours killing anyone it runs across. The stadium and the neighborhoods that lay behind it will be death zones,” said Amanda.

The scout party and their escort finally arrived at where the battle had taken place.

“Nice shooting Wiley! Looks like you got most of them with three clips,” said Lynn.

Wiley looked at the Night Ranger with a sheepish look on his face.

“I got a few. So did the girls with the arrows.”

Several of the Dyke sister soldiers were standing around Wiley sitting on his horse, looking up at him with smiles on their faces. All of the women were young, pretty and in good shape like Lydia and Sandra.

“Looks like you have a fan club Wiley,” said Janie.

“Yeah, maybe, but I didn’t do nothing. Amanda and Little Jimbo had it all under control.”

“What did you use, a big one or a small one?” asked Lynn.

“One of my small ones,” answered Amanda.

“That was a small one? Holy shit!” exclaimed Trevor surveying the field of dead men.

Joe made the sign of the cross and said a soft prayer while viewing the carnage on the field by Sam Boyd Stadium. Then he turned to face Amanda.

“I have read about what you have done in the past but to see it first hand makes one think. You are…the Pale Rider,” he said softly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I have heard that before,” answered Amanda, heading Spooky west down Boulder Highway.

As Amanda and Little Jimbo rode away Joe spoke to Francis and Lynn.

“I have never seen so much death in such short of a time span. It boggles my mind,”

Lynn laughed.

“This is a small kill. I wish I had a video recording of what she has done in the past along with Francis. She used one of her small poison bombs. I think she is starting to get pissed off about this ride. We have been fighting every step of the way and we ain’t near where we are supposed to be. You have some prison here Joe.”

“The crazies are the worst of the worst. This has me worried. In my five years on patrol in this prison I have never witnessed the crazies acting like they are organized. Usually, at the most, you might find ten of them forming a predatory pack, not ten thousand.”

“Well, you witnessed it today Preacher, The men you call the crazies just made one big mistake today,” said Lynn.

“What was that?”

Lynn grinned while turning Butch to head down Boulder Highway.

“They should have found a hundred thousand more crazies. They might have had a chance then, but I doubt it.”

* * * * *

The one and a half hour trip to the Fontainebleau Tower from the slaughter at Sam Boyd Stadium was uneventful. Considering what had happened in the first half hour in Sin City Prison, this was a relief for the fighters from Free America. The group of scouts were about to turn off of Sahara Boulevard to head south on Las Vegas Boulevard to the Fontainebleau when Francis reined Two to a stop.

The five hundred members of the Dykes continued to head south down Las Vegas Boulevard to their clubhouse. The column of scouts did the same thing their leader did. They were sitting on their horses nearby Francis patiently waiting while watching the members of the Dykes move off into the distance.

“What’s wrong darling?” asked Lynn.

“Are you sensing danger Francis? You are acting kind of strange, like you did in Rochester. Should we get out the chain guns?” asked Janie loudly.

Both women knew Francis’ behavior well. When he acted like he was presently acting, even if he didn’t admit it, he was sensing something was not quite right.

“No, I am fine…for now. We need to give the horses a rest and water the German Shepherds along with the terriers while I light up a smoke. I like the looks of this abandoned casino with the roller coaster. All the glass in the front doors are still intact. Jimbo, do you think you can break into that place without blowing it to pieces?”

Little Jimbo surveyed the multiple glass doors of the Sahara Casino, which looked to be in good shape after all these years. Jimbo dismounted his horse and walked up to peer inside the abandoned casino.

“There’s some trash on the floor but it looks to me the three nations missed gutting this place. The slot machines are still inside. We can move the horses into the shade in the front foyer where I see a big open area. Do you want to get inside and check it out?”

“Might as well for now until we find out where we stand,” answered Francis.

“Why don’t we go on to the clubhouse?” asked Lydia.

Francis turned his cold stare on Lydia.

“Because we don’t know about your leader for now. I don’t want to turn loose the Night Ranger, the Pale Rider, Janie and Em on your friends if we ride into a trap. And what about the kids in your former clubhouse? Do you trust anyone from Sin City prison after what you just witnessed this morning? I don’t want any of us to get hurt. I would just as soon ride out of here and go to plan B.”

“What are we going to do?” asked Sandra.

“We are going to secure this casino room, establish a perimeter and wait until Emily gets back in contact with Data. After the first crazy attack I had her get in touch with Data to monitor any wireless communications emitting from this area. Data knows how to use the satellites and I doubt if your leader knows how to encrypt her communications. Even if she did, Data will break her code in due time and let us know what she has said and who she is speaking with if that has occurred. Right now, everyone stay on their toes and try to relax a little until we get educated.”

“Let me get some tools and I will have these doors opened in a heartbeat,” said Jimbo.

As he started to move to his horse Francis pulled one of his Colt 1911’s from one of his holsters, slowly aiming at one of the glass doors.

“No Francis! We don’t need any more glass on the ground in this hell hole! We don’t need to be stitching up one of our dogs paws! Put that pistol away! Jimbo, go ahead and open up the doors. We will find something to prop them open to get some fresh air inside,” ordered Lynn.

She was firmly staring at her man. Francis slowly holstered  his pistol.

Jimbo hustled in his task and within two minutes had eight glass doors propped open by using nearby landscape rocks. The scouts dismounted and led their horses into the large foyer of the Sahara Casino.

“Jungen…auskundschften!” exclaimed Lynn, pointing into the room.

The four German Shepherds and two terriers took off into the darkened room without any hesitation.

“We won’t be able to see them point!” exclaimed Wiley.

“Don’t worry Wiley. If they find a threat they will haul ass back here barking their heads off, except for Major and Sarge,” answered Lynn.

“Why wouldn’t they run back here?”

“It depends,” answered Lynn while tying up Butch to a handle on a slot machine.

“It depends on what?” persisted Wiley with his questioning.

“It depends on whether there is more than two people presenting a threat to those two animals. If there are more than two in this building that they perceive as a threat they will haul ass back here to get some help. If there is one or two we will hear a lot of brief growling and some human screams for help. If they are carrying a weapon by the time we get to the dogs those one or two people will probably be dead. If they freeze and yell for help nothing will happen to them,” interjected Jane.

“Have those two dogs killed anyone before?”  asked Wiley.

Lynn looked at the young man and rolled her eyes.

“That’s the stupidest damn question I have heard in a long, long time.”

While the scouts were making their horses comfortable the six dogs returned to the foyer. Lynn reached into her pocket and rewarded her three animals while Janie did the same.

“I reckon we are good for now,” said Francis still looking around. For some reason he was uneasy.

“You sure are acting strange honey,” said Lynn.

“I don’t like being in all these confining places. Give me the mountains anytime. Emily, get on that computer and see if you can raise Data now!”

“Listen to you, mister I ain’t in any hurry! All right, give me a second to set up,” snapped the Black Widow.

Francis turned his cold steel gaze and locked eyes with the Black Widow of Free America.

“Em, I need some information and for some reason, I feel like I need it now,” he said softly while blowing a smoke ring into the air.

The Night Ranger, who had been riding with her man for over a year now along with Emily and Janie, had never seen him so serious.

Emily sat down on a dusty, well padded casino chair with a large ornate gold letter S embroidered on the back that was setting in front of a slot machine and set up her notebook computer. She began to type furiously on the small keyboard, a gift she had that no other scout could match. She had a set of earphones on her head. After ten minutes she looked up at the Reaper.

“You need to get your ass over here and listen to this. Data will fill you in. It is not good,” said Emily.

Francis threw his half smoked cigar to the carpeted floor of the Sahara Casino and stepped on the burning tobacco with his hiking boot while his squadron watched his actions silently. No one had ever seen Francis kill a half smoked cigar before. He moved over to where Emily was sitting and settled into a slot chair next to her. She handed him her earphones with some hesitation and he slowly placed them on his head.

“Ask Data to play it again,” he said softly.

Emily typed on the small keyboard of the notebook computer still resting in her lap. Francis sat silently listening to the recording. He pulled out one of his thin cigars tucked in his vest pocket and placed the smoke in his mouth. He held one of his trademark wooden matches in his right hand but he was frozen, not lighting the match. He sat in the upholstered chair like this for five minutes.

Finally he struck the match, lit his cigar and blew a smoke ring into the air in front of his face. No one had made a sound, not even the German Shepherds or the Jack Russell terriers, who were sitting on the carpet in front of him. Finally he spoke.

“Unplug the earphones Emily and ask Data to play the recording again. We don’t have the time for everyone to listen in private to this conversation.”

“Everyone move in close! These aren’t the best speakers in the world on this notebook!” ordered Emily.

As everyone shuffled around to get closer to Emily, Francis spoke again.

“Joe, Lydia and Sandra, I want you to stand by Em. You need to have front row seats to this show,” said Francis as he blew another smoke ring.

Then the leader of the Reaper crew stood up and moved aside, motioning for the Night Ranger to take his seat.

“Jungen…bewachen!” ordered Lynn.

The brunette didn’t know what was up but she knew something was.

“What did you just tell them to do Lynn?” asked the ever inquisitive Wiley.

“You and I are going to have some German lessons Wiley if you are going to hang around with us! I just told them to go guard! Now, listen to the recording and quit asking questions…for now!”

Francis, Ringo and Little Jimbo disappeared in the direction the dogs had taken in the Sahara while the remaining members of the Reaper crew began to listen to the conversation Data had harvested.

Five minutes later the impromptu show was over. Lynn was the first to speak.

“Don’t go anywhere Data! I am sure Francis will want to speak with you!”

Emily typed what Lynn had said on her computer keyboard.

The next to speak was Preacher Joe.

“I can’t believe what I just heard,” he said quietly.

“Me either,” added Sandra in a subdued voice.

Lydia said nothing but she had a look of anger written all over her face.

“Have you ever met the leader of the Dykes?” asked Amanda turning to Preacher Joe.

“Yes, but only on a few occasions since I was appointed the warden. The bitch never walks down the seventy seven floors from her quarters and it takes a lot of effort to walk up to meet with her. You have to be in good shape to make that hike.”

“What about you two?” asked Lynn facing Lydia and Sandra.

“I have met with her maybe twenty times in the past four years. It was just for bullshit things, like anniversaries, promotions, things like that. In fact, the last time I was up on the seventy seventh floor was when the White Widow had made her one hundredth kill. When was that Lydia? You had only been on foot patrol for a month I think,” said Sandra.

At first Lydia did not respond to Sandra’s question. She had many thoughts racing through her mind, the first of which was how soon she could make the trip up the stairway of the Fontainebleau to make another kill. Finally, she gathered her thoughts and answered.

“That was seven months ago Sandra. I am finding it difficult to handle the fact that Tricia is a traitor and is out to enslave us all and kill our children. In fact, I need to take a little hike right now!” she exclaimed rising to her feet.

“Whoa there girl! We can’t do that right now! We all need to get our heads together and come up with a plan!” said Wiley.

“Wiley is right Lydia. We only have seven hours left before the attack begins and that ain’t much time to deal with a hundred thousand crazy fuckers. Where is Francis? Where is Jimbo?” asked Preacher Joe.

Tiger was lying in Lynn’s lap. She placed the small dog on the red and gold carpet in front of her at her feet. The small dog looked up at his master, waiting on an order.

“Francis…apportieren!” she said motioning to the darkened interior of the Sahara Casino.

“That was instructions for Tiger to retrieve Francis, Wiley,” she said softly anticipating his question.

The terrier bolted down a slot machine aisle in the cavernous room.

“Do you have any ideas Lynn?” asked Janie.

“I reckon we need to get educated about this place. I heard two male voices on the digital recording. Who is Jesus and the Mayor, Joe?”

“Jesus is the leader of the Latino Kings and the Mayor is the leader of the Black Mambas. I have never met either one of them but I guess I should have made it a goal to give them communion in the past.”

“How many in each gang and where are they located?” asked Amanda.

“The Black Mambas reside at the City Center complex down the Strip four miles away from here. They have more than a hundred thousand members but no one really knows for sure. They are the largest gang in Sin City prison. The Latino Kings call Caesar’s Palace home. I would estimate they have sixty thousand members or more. Caesar’s Palace is two miles away from the Fontainebleau.”

“What about the Crackers, Joe? Do you think the bitch has a deal with them?” asked Sandra.

“We didn’t hear them mentioned on the recording,” answered Joe.

Suddenly, the squad heard Francis’ voice emerge from the dark shadows of the Sahara Casino.

“You can bet Zak’s ex has some type of deal with them too. What it is we don’t know but a woman like her will certainly have one. And we can’t count on the two gangs to make their move at midnight. We have less time than everyone thinks.”

Francis, Ringo and Jimbo walked into the light offered by the glass doors of the Sahara Casino. Trotting in front of the three scouts were Major, Sarge and the terrier. Tiger promptly hopped up in Lynn’s lap. His mission was complete for now. Wiley reached into his right vest pocket and produced six dog biscuits and followed protocol in rewarding all six dogs. The young man was fast becoming one of the dog’s favorite scouts.

“Thank you for saving me a trip to my mule cart Wiley,” said Lynn.

“So what are we going to do Francis? We can’t just ride out of here and let a thousand kids get killed! We can’t be transporting a thousand kids into this hell hole either!” exclaimed Amanda.

There was a long minute of silence. Francis continued to smoke his thin cigar and blow smoke rings into the air, not saying a word.

“Life has sure gotten complicated since we found those three kids hauling ass up the Las Vegas Trail,” said Wiley.

Several of the female scouts nodded their heads in agreement.

“If there are a hundred thousand convicts we may not have enough bullets to handle the problem. Me and my twenty nine men might have forty or fifty thousand bullets between us to take care of the problem but that is assuming every shot won’t go to waste,” said Ringo.

“There are a lot more convicts than that Ringo,” said Preacher Joe.

“Things are worse than that. The wind is not in our favor right now if they are coming down the Strip. That fact will limit our use of poison,” said Amanda.

The Night Ranger suddenly became…the Night Ranger. She had heard enough. She placed the small terrier resting in her lap on the carpeted floor and stood up.

“Fuck this committee meeting! Here is what we are going to do! We are going to split up and use our resources! Data said the two big gangs are going to use some service access tunnels to get inside the Dyke’s clubhouse. Where would those tunnels be located Sandra?” she asked flashing her piercing brown eyes at the blond haired woman.

Sandra and Lydia both fidgeted in their seats for a brief moment before answering.

“I wouldn’t really know Lynn, but I can tell you this. I have been all over this tower the past four years except for one area. That area has been off limits to any member of the Dykes,” answered Sandra.

“Now that sounds promising! Where is this area?” asked Amanda.

“Sandra is talking about the Grand Ballroom. There are heavy chains and locks on four big doors leading into the Grand Ballroom. It is supposed to be a super secure area. As far as I know, no one has ever been in that room,” responded Lydia.

“I think we will break that rule right away. Where is this room girls?” asked Lynn.

“It is on the south side of the Fontainebleau. From the street below it looks like one huge box that is six or seven hundred feet wide and fifty to sixty feet high. I have been on the roof of the building many times and it is very expansive. There are several boxes on its surface that I think are for ventilation,” answered Lydia.

“That is where the two gangs will move their siege towers to attack,” said Lynn.

“I heard Tricia say something about siege towers! What are those?” asked Calamity Jane.

Lynn looked at Francis, who was still blowing smoke rings, and the young leader nodded his head yes.

“Siege towers were built by ancient civilizations to use in war to break over a wall. Some of them were fifty to seventy feet tall and were equipped with wheels. A siege tower is like a rolling stairwell. Once the enemy gets the tower next to a wall the soldiers use the stairwell and a ramp to engage the enemy. Tricia stated the two gangs had five or six siege towers ready to use. The only place where they could be used effectively is the roof of the Grand Ballroom,” answered Lynn.

“Holy shit! We will just have to blow them up when they roll them down the Strip!” exclaimed Wiley.

Finally, Francis spoke.

“It won’t be that easy. The siege towers will have armor plating on their exposed sides and you can bet the gangs will have a weapon called a scorpio. That is a deadly crossbow the Romans used to kill adversaries while the rig is being put into place. There will be a ton of silent death in the air. But the surface action is just a diversion to cover up the operation in the two service tunnels. Once they break into the Grand Ballroom you will be dealing with thousands of Latino Kings and Black Mambas up close and personal.”

“All right people! We need to take it one step at a time! We need to take care of some things right now! Amanda, you and Jimbo take the McFoster brothers and get to the north of our present location now. We need to take care of our backdoor in case of any sneak attack. Place a heavy poison bomb on the Strip and one each to the west and east at half a mile. What streets would that be Joe?” asked Lynn.

Joe at first was alarmed by this strategy.

“Lynn, are we talking about the odorless, colorless poison that kills anything on contact and lasts two hours?”

“That’s what I am talking about. With the way the wind is blowing presently, we won’t have to worry about anyone going around us and attacking the Fontainebleau from the north.  The gas will make it all the way to the big wall to our north,” answered the Night Ranger.

“Lynn! I know some people who live in that area that might be innocent and peaceful people.”

Everyone grew silent except for the Night Ranger.

“How many innocent people are we talking about Joe?” she asked.

“I can think of thirty off the top of my head!”

“Thirty out of how many? Didn’t you tell us there are a lot of minor gangs in the north side of this hell hole?”

“Yes, There are a few.”

“What are the names of the streets to the east and west of the Strip, Joe?”

“One street is named Paradise and the other is Valley View. Both are roughly a half a mile away from the Strip.”

“Amanda, you and Jimbo place the poison on the Strip and on the street to the west. Wiley, take Trevor and get to Paradise Road and place the bomb out of sight. Set all three bombs for remote detonation since we don’t know when the attack will take place. Ringo, I want you to take Joe and twenty of your men and warn the people to get to the Fontainebleau. You have one hour Joe and no more. Don’t escort the people you warn. Just tell them to get to safety. We have a lot more to do.”

The scouts had their orders and all of them scrambled to their rides except for Maurice. When the Night Ranger saw the young Cajun scramble to his horse she barked a command.

“You stay here Maurice! I have something for you to do!” she yelled.

Ringo gave the Cajun a hand signal to obey the assertive female scout. Maurice dismounted his horse and ambled over to where Lynn was standing and Emily was still sitting.

Francis was now standing alone at the edge of the Sahara Casino shadows still calmly blowing smoke rings. He was enjoying this show by his young wife.

“What’s up boss lady?” asked Maurice.

“Didn’t I hear you say you were an expert with audio equipment?”

“I used to be. I have had a lot of experience with audio equipment.”

“Do you think you could rig up a couple of speakers from somewhere in this casino and hook them up to Emily’s notebook so a lot of people could hear the digital recording that we just heard?”

Maurice grinned and started to get enthusiastic.

“I think I know where you are going with this! Give me a couple of minutes to find some speakers and some wire. I can use one of the computer batteries for power.  Hell, some of these slot machines have decent speakers. I will get right on it!”

The Cajun took off to retrieve some tools from his saddle bag.

“Lydia! Sandra! What you have to do next is very important! We need to get some of your most trusted captains into this room now! Get as many as you can. Once they hear what we have heard we will go from there but don’t bring me any hot headed women right now. We need to keep what we know a secret for as long as we can. Can you do that?”

“I have a lot of friends who are captains in the Dykes. Give us twenty minutes to round some up,” answered Sandra.

“You have ten minutes. Move it,” ordered Lynn.

The two new female scouts mounted their horses and spurred them to a fast trot heading south on the Las Vegas Strip.

Now, the only scouts left in the foyer of the Sahara Casino was Janie, Emily, Francis and Lynn along with Maurice and nine of Ringo’s men.

“I want you fellows to carry your AK47s and cover the entrances to this room for now. I want two each to be on the west sidewalk and the north sidewalk and try to look relaxed as if it was business as usual. We will be getting a lot of visitors from the Dykes for the next twenty or thirty minutes. You couldn’t have picked a better place to stop Francis. No one in the Fontainebleau can see what is going on here.”

“The only scouts left in here is the Reaper crew and we are just sitting here on our butts basically doing nothing!” exclaimed Jane.

“We will be doing something soon Janie. First, we need to speak with Zak,” said Lynn.

“I ain’t talking with him about this!” exclaimed Janie.

“Me either! That is your department Lynn!” said Emily.

Lynn turned to look at her husband who was busy lighting up another thin cigar. The man dressed in black sat down on a slot machine chair and started to pet all four of the German Shepherds heads who were sitting at his feet.

“Francis?” asked Lynn sweetly.

“Francis what?” he replied with his low gruff voice.

“Would you please have a chat with Zak? You know how he makes me hang up on him.”

All three of the female scouts were eyeballing the leader of the Reaper crew.

“It’s important Francis. We need to see if we can get some help. After all, we are talking about a thousand kids and a lot of women who seem to be making a positive change in their lives!” said Janie.

“This is becoming the craziest ride I have ever been on as a scout!” exclaimed Emily.

“Kind of like the one when you and Janie first rode with Lynn?” asked the Reaper.

The three female scouts grew very quiet. All three remembered the ride where Donnie and Chris had been killed. They also remembered that Emily had nearly been killed.

Francis sat down next to Emily. On screen he could see Data’s face but he could not hear him.

“How come we aren’t using the microphone on the computer?”

“Data said to use the keyboard for some reason. Why, I don’t know,” replied Emily.

Francis sighed.

“Then type it. Ask him to get Zak. This ought to be good. Zak can’t type worth a shit.”

Emily typed in her question. Data responded by typing furiously. Emily read his response to Francis.

“Data says the minute Zak heard the digital recording he hauled ass out of the Secondary Base.”

“He hauled ass out of the base? On his horse?” asked Francis.

Emily typed in her question and Data once again began to type furiously.

“No. He hauled ass in one of Free America’s choppers. Data doesn’t know where he was going but he says he will try to contact Zak. He said he has tried several times already but Zak is pulling a Pale Rider or Night Ranger. He is not responding,” said Emily.

“Swell,” sighed Francis.

Chapter Sixteen

The Gangs of Sin City

Twenty minutes had passed since Francis had contacted Data at the Secondary Base to get more information about what was happening in Sin City prison. During this short time span many captains and foot soldiers belonging to the Dykes filtered into the Sahara Casino to hear what was so important. Some of the ladies sat on the slot machine seats, some on available tables while many just stood around anxiously waiting to hear what the strangers from Free America had to share. The large foyer at the front of the long abandoned Sahara Casino at the corner of the Las Vegas Strip and Sahara Boulevard was starting to get packed with Dyke foot soldiers and there were uneasy murmurs in the assemblage. A vast majority of the women were taking a long hard look at the only male in the room dressed in black who was calmly sitting on a slot machine chair petting the heads of his four German Shepherds and blowing smoke rings into the air while smoking his thin cigar. The mysterious stranger seemed to have an air of arrogance and confidence in the way he moved and interacted with his four big four legged friends. Janie and Emily were starting to act a bit uneasy eyeing the women intently but the Night Ranger sat next to her man calmly, using her notebook computer and obtaining information from Data who was located at the Secondary Base far away from Sin City. Maurice had completed his task of providing an acceptable way to relay the digital recording and he was on patrol around the perimeter of the Sahara Casino along with his nine male scouts from Ringo’s squadron keeping a watchful eye.

Lydia and Sandra returned with more women from the Dykes at the same time the McFoster brothers rode up to the entrance of the casino on their horses. Both brothers dismounted their rides and were surprised at the vast amount of young women. These women were in the prime of their lives and both brothers were smiling because of what they saw. They both tied their reins of their horses to one of the open glass doors and nodded their heads at many of the young women who were standing nearby. Many of the female foot soldiers were eyeing the brothers intently and the brothers were eyeing them back. All of the women had looks of distrust on their faces.

“Damn Wiley, I haven’t seen so many good looking women in one place since that time we were in that strip club in Dallas. They are sure taking a hard look at us too!” exclaimed Trevor with a subdued but enthusiastic voice.

Wiley looked around and smiled at many of the women, nodding his head and saying good afternoon with many of them, often tipping his black wide brimmed hat. He was playing the role of a gentleman.

“Yeah, they are taking a hard look at us but they aren’t smiling much. Just be cool little brother and be nice. Don’t do any thing stupid like offering them a government credit for a lap dance. It looks to me that several of them would like to do nothing more than put one of those aluminum arrows in our butts. Let’s just saunter over to where Lynn is sitting and do nothing more. We need to get informed about what is going on.”

The two brothers slowly moved through the large crowd of women saying hello to the young lady warriors. Trevor smiled at many of them, saying howdy and tipping his black leather hat as he walked. Several of the young women smiled back at the brothers and nodded at them, often giggling like young school girls but said nothing. Trevor seemed to be at ease with the foot soldiers.

The next scouts to arrive were Amanda and Little Jimbo. Little Jimbo stayed in his saddle and smiled at many of the women. Amanda dismounted Spooky and tied him up next to Wiley’s horse. Before walking to where Lynn was sitting she spoke loudly enough so the women standing nearby could clearly hear what she said.

“Don’t make me come over there and put blinders on you Jimbo!” she warned gruffly.

Amanda was not smiling at anyone. The Pale Rider was making direct eye contact with many of the young women just to let them know that the scout on the horse was spoken for. Several of the Dyke foot soldiers giggled because of her statement however.

“Yes ma’am! I will be right here waiting for you to return love of my life, like I always do!” exclaimed Jimbo.

Jimbo was putting on a show but he knew where his limits were.

Amanda stopped and stood in front of Lynn. Then she turned to Lydia and Sandra.

“You two got a big crowd here pretty quick. Do you two know all these women?” she queried.

“I know all of them and Lydia knows most of them. They all know the White Widow because of her reputation. The only thing I am worried about is once they hear the recording some of them will want to be heading up the stairwell to have a chat with our leader. The Dykes have rednecks in their midst just like Free America have in theirs,” said Sandra.

Amanda nodded her head yes.

“I can understand that and I can’t blame them for wanting to do that but you better speak to them before Emily hits the play button, so tell them they can’t do anything… yet. For the time being, we have the element of surprise and I sure as hell won’t be happy if we lose that advantage because of some redneck female. It is hard enough to keep the redneck males towing the line,” said Amanda.

Sandra jumped upon an abandoned slot platform, raised her hands while demanding silence and spoke with the crowd of women concerning what they were about to hear. While she spoke more Dyke members continued to stroll into the Sahara Casino and find a place to sit that was close to the speakers Maurice had set on the top of two slot machines.

Once Sandra was finished there was silence. Lynn nodded at Emily to start the show.

Emily played the hijacked recording for the gang members twice. After the second play several of the women were starting to get incensed over what they had just heard. That was when the White Widow jumped on a nearby platform and fired off a short burst of gunfire into the ceiling of the Sahara Casino from her newly acquired AK47 with the fancy silencer attached.

“Shut up and listen! Get over it! We have been betrayed and we are damn lucky these people are our friends! If it weren’t for them we would all be dead by tomorrow! We have to get organized and we have a fight on our hands…tonight! Or do you want to go off half cocked and get our kids killed? So listen up, keep a tight lip for the next few hours and do what you are told! You do that and some of us might get out of this alive! Do we have an understanding?”

Lydia was glaring at the crowd of women as the room quieted. The room grew eerily silent. Every foot soldier in the Sahara Casino knew the White Widow and knew about her reputation.

“Hop up here and introduce yourself to my friends,” said Lydia, motioning to Lynn.

Lynn jumped upon the platform without any hesitation.

“My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley. I am a scout with Free America. We came here today to see if we could harbor a thousand kids in this place for them to be safe. We had no idea we would be finding ourselves in this situation. Now we find that not only are the kids we were trying to save are in danger, your children are in grave danger too. Maybe we can work together and help out each other. Is everyone agreeable to that?”

“Where are your kids at?” asked one of the Dykes.

“Our kids are being used for slave labor in the rebuilding of FEMA camp 37. We came here to free them and we figured it would be safer to bring them to the Fontainebleau after what Preacher Joe told us. To get them to safety at our base two hundred plus miles away going through the mountains and dealing with the Hussein mounted patrols would be risky. I can stand up here and tell you all about it but we don’t have the time. We need to start getting ready now for tonight’s fight. We all must fight together to save your kids first. Then I expect you to help me with my kids.”

The Night Ranger had a reputation for getting to the heart of any matter.

“We have more than just kids to fight for. There are more than eighty thousand hard working women in this place who are changing their lives. It pisses me off that Tricia wanted to trade us all off as whores and slaves to the male gangs in this shit hole. What do you want us to do?” asked the same foot soldier for the Dykes.

With that comment the unknown captain of the Dykes raised her right fist in the air. The thousand or more Dyke sisters in the room did the same. It was a salute of solidarity used by the foot soldiers of the Dykes.

At that moment Ringo returned with his men along with Preacher Joe reining in their horses at the front of the Sahara Casino. Sitting behind Joe on his horse was an older, blonde haired woman. Lydia let out a yelp of joy and hopped down from her platform running to Preacher Joe.

“Mags! I was hoping Preacher Joe would swing by to get you!”

Slung across Mag’s back was two AK47s.  The older, athletic woman deftly dismounted the rear of the horse with Joe’s assistance. Preacher Joe had a smile on his face.

“Joe told me there was going to be a fight with the Kings and Mamba’s tonight. I wouldn’t miss that for anything in this prison.”

Lydia and Sandra both embraced the woman. Mags looked around the room and while viewing the male scouts of Free America she spoke.

“Where did you pick up the hunky hunks girls?”

“The people with the guns are scouts from Free America. Lydia and I joined the Free America movement a couple of days ago Mags. I must say, since then there has never been a dull moment in my life,” answered Sandra.

“I will introduce the scouts to Mags and some of my former sisters while you continue to outline your plan Lynn. We can’t be wasting any time,” said Lydia.

“Okay, that sounds good to me. Maurice, crank up those speakers one more time for our new arrivals while I speak with Francis.”

While Maurice and Emily played the five minute recording of Tricia’s conversation with Jesus and the Mayor, Lynn sauntered over to her husband.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked.

Francis stopped smoking his cigar and laughed at his young wife.

“I thought you were the one with the plan,” he said softly.

“Well, I do have a rough plan but I thought I would ask what you had come up with.”

“Tell me your plan lover,” said Francis.

“I was planning on killing all of the bad guys,” answered Lynn.

Francis paused for a moment, blowing a final smoke ring from his spent cigar. Then he sighed and flashed one of his rare grins.

“That sounds like a good plan to me. We better get moving, love of my life. I know what you want to do but I don’t like it. I never feel comfortable splitting up our team, especially me and you.”

“I can’t see any other way. You and Amanda take the low road and me, Emily and Janie will take the high road. You always have an advantage with the high road.”

Francis sighed and then lit another one of his trademark thin cigars.

“Lynn, I don’t think any one has an advantage in this fight. Just be careful.”

“Me? You are the one who needs to be careful. The last time we did something like this you got shot!”

“Yeah, I know. But this time I am taking the dogs with me.”

* * * * *

Francis, Wiley, Little Jimbo and Amanda had moved on foot to the east side of the Fontainebleau Tower, avoiding any scrutiny from prying eyes high above that might be looking down to the street. This was after securing the horses and mules within the confines of the Dyke’s massive tower for safety.

The small group of scouts were following Francis’s lead. They were amazed that he seemed to know where he was going in the maze of hallways within the complex. It was now eight o’clock in the desert and the only light afforded to anyone was a three quarters moon outside. Inside the seventy seven story high building was nothing but darkness. All four scouts had utilized their headlamps to find their way. The four German Shepherds and two Jack Russell terriers were accompanying the group. The dogs had the uncanny ability to see in the dark and they too, seemed to know where they were going. After ten minutes of walking through a maze of hallways Francis stopped in front of a huge steel double door that was secured with a heavy chain and a large padlock.

“This is where we want to go gang. Jimbo, open the door.”

Jimbo grinned. This time there would be no need to use any special tools. Jimbo pulled out his Colt 1911 pistol and fired twice, hitting the large padlock directly in the center. The heavy device fell with a thud to the ground and the chain obeyed the laws of gravity. It fell to the tiled floor with a loud clatter.

“Now you are learning how to open a damn door Jimbo,” said Francis.

Wiley gathered the chain, removing the heavy metal rope from the standoff angle iron welded to both doors. Wiley tentatively pushed one of the sixteen foot high doors inwards opening it twelve to eighteen inches.

Francis strode forward and pushed the door hard with his right foot, causing the heavy door to open a great deal.

“We need to have a lesson on how to open a steel door in the future young man,” said Francis with his low gruff voice.

Stepping inside the four scouts found that they were in a massive cavernous room. Little Jimbo produced a powerful five cell flashlight and threw a switch on the device to create a wide beam. The room was the size of two football fields with several elaborate crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling fifty feet above the floor. The huge floor of the room was covered with expensive gold and burgundy carpet along with ornate millwork that was to be seen on all four walls.

“Good Lord! I want a living room like this one of these days! This place is twice as large as the stable area at the Secondary Base!” exclaimed Amanda.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fancy! It makes you wonder why the place has been off limits all these years!” exclaimed Wiley.

The four scouts were quiet for a long minute following Little Jimbo’s light with their eyes. The ballroom was ornate much like Las Vegas was known for in the past. The massive room, overall, seemed to be free of the ever present desert dust.

“Shine your light to the rear of the room Jimbo and focus the beam,” ordered Francis.

Jimbo narrowed the beam of the flashlight and aimed the light at the opposite wall of the massive room. He stopped his sweep to illuminate another massive steel double door that was again secured with a heavy chains and a large padlock.

“I think we have found one of the service doors,” said Jimbo.

“Do you think so Jimbo? That is the only damn door on that wall, other than its twin fifty yards to the right! Let’s get across this carpeted football field now! Do you hear what I hear?” asked the Pale Rider.

The four scouts paused to listen. All of them could faintly hear the familiar sound of drumbeats.

“We heard that sound this morning,” said Wiley with alarm in his voice.

“I told everyone I thought the midnight time that was on the recording was a deception. Let’s get over there and open the doors to see what is behind them,” said Francis.

Amanda, Little Jimbo and Wiley broke into a jog in the massive room. Francis and his six dogs strolled across the big room.

“Dammit Francis! Can’t you hurry up?” yelled Amanda stopping to turn around.

“Go on ahead Amanda. I will be there shortly.”

The three scouts continued to jog while Francis and his six dogs walked at a slow pace. The dogs and Francis were in no hurry.

By the time Francis arrived strolling across the massive room Little Jimbo and Wiley had blasted both large double doors open by shooting the padlocks with their pistols. The three scouts were shining Little Jimbo’s powerful flashlight down the service tunnel on the left side of the Grand Ballroom.

“This service tunnel goes straight for a hundred yards and then it looks like it dogs to the right,” said Amanda.

“According to the building plans Data downloaded the service tunnel on the left is a mirror image. Both turn ninety degrees one more time and shoot under the street to an eight story parking garage across from the Fontainebleau Tower on the south side. That was the original plan for the service trucks when the place was first built but the resort never got off the ground in the first decade of this century. Las Vegas crashed long before the rest of the country thanks to the dictator’s big mouth. People should have realized that when he verbally attacked America’s favorite playground but I guess they were worried about other things at the time,” said Francis.

“This is one big ass tunnel! A hundred men could fit in this one standing shoulder to shoulder,” said Wiley.

“When the gang members come through this tunnel they won’t be standing, they will be running as fast as they can. The tunnels are two city blocks long. I reckon me and Wiley will take this one while you and Little Jimbo take the other one Amanda. You know what to do. Take Janie’s animals with you to scout ahead of you and Jimbo while I will take mine.”

“Will they mind me?” asked Amanda.

“Thor, Jake, Studly! Amanda…gehorchen! They will obey you now. Just tell them what you want them to do in English. And don’t forget to take some dog biscuits with you.”

The three animals moved to sit in front of Amanda.  Wiley quickly reached into his right coat pocket and grabbed a handful of dog biscuits.

“Here Amanda. You will need some of these. I have plenty more and I am sure Francis has a pocketful,” he said handing the Pale Rider the treats.

Amanda placed the dog biscuits in her jacket pocket.

“Let’s go boys,” she said motioning for the dogs to follow her and Jimbo.

“And don’t forget to reward the alpha male first Amanda!” yelled Wiley as she and Jimbo left.

Wiley turned and peered down the dark tunnel. The only illumination he and Francis had were two small, but powerful pen lights.

“How far are we going into this tunnel Francis?” he asked nervously.

Francis lit up a new cigar and blew a smoke ring into the air.

“I reckon as far as we have to Wiley.”

Francis motioned to Tiger and the two German Shepherds and they disappeared into the dark of the tunnel.

“Holy shit! I can’t see twenty feet ahead or to the sides for that matter. It is pitch black in there!”

“The dogs will do the seeing Wiley. All we have to do is follow that yellow line in the middle of the roadway until we come to another big double door made of steel. We should run across that about four hundred yards ahead.”

Francis bent over and picked up a small black canvas bag and slung it over his right shoulder. Wiley removed the AK47 from his back and held the weapon in his arms. Both men proceeded to walk down the tunnel side by side. After several minutes of hearing nothing but their footsteps and the faint sound of beating drums Wiley spoke again.

“I am starting to hear sounds Francis! I can hear drumbeats and voices...like chants! Do you think the dogs are okay?”

Francis grabbed a silver tube he had on a leather string that was hanging on his neck and stopped walking. He blew into the tube once for a long second and then two quick short blasts of wind. Immediately he heard one bark echo down the tunnel from far away.

“They are waiting on us Wiley. The tunnel is clear for now.”

“Which dog was that?”

Francis laughed before answering Wiley’s question.

“That is a dumb question Wiley. That bark was from the alpha male.”

The two men walked for ten more minutes and the drumbeats grew louder. Wiley grew more nervous.

“My God Francis! It sounds like they are right above us!”

“Naw! They are on the other side of that big double door made of steel,” answered Francis.

His flashlight illuminated the big double door and sitting by the door were Major, Sarge and Tiger patiently waiting. The three dogs seemed oblivious to the fact there were thousands of hostiles just ten feet away from where they sat that would love to kill and eat them. Wiley reached into his pocket for three dog biscuits and promptly dropped the biscuits to the floor by his feet. His hands were shaking badly. He stooped down and picked up the biscuits and properly rewarded the three dogs while Francis watched.

“You need to relax Wiley. You get a case of the butterfingers with one of these babies and you may wind up dead,” said Francis reaching into his canvas bag and pulling out a black tube one foot in length.

Francis started to shine the beam of the small flashlight on the nearby tiled wall as if searching for something. He soon located what he was looking for.

“That’s what we need guys. An emergency light with a dead battery off the floor nestled in the dark. It is a perfect place for a pipe bomb, especially a black pipe bomb.”

Francis walked up to the tiled wall to stand underneath the emergency light.

“I can barely reach it but it is good enough for our purposes.”

He held the black tube in his hands for a brief moment and pressed a red button mounted on its side. Then he placed the black tube on top of the dead battery reaching up as high as he possible could reach.

“That will take care of this end of the trap. Let’s head back to the Grand Ballroom. It won’t be long before our guests start beating down the doors. It sounds like they are getting restless right now. What do you think Wiley? Are we having any fun yet?” asked Francis with a wicked grin on his face.

Wiley had placed his ear to the double steel doors and had been listening to the ongoing activities of the male inmates congregating on the wide street leading up to the service access ports.  When Francis said to leave Wiley tip toed away from the door and walked as softly as he could to where the leader of the Reaper crew was patiently waiting.

“What in the hell are you doing tippy toeing around in a big ass concrete tunnel with thousands of heathens beating on trash lids in the alley on the other side of two twenty foot long steel doors holding a finger to your lips Wiley? Are you getting scared?” asked Francis.

Francis pulled out one of his thin cigars, struck a match off his riding jeans and lit his smoke.

“They are right there, man, I mean right there!” Wiley hissed, pointing at the spot where he had placed his ear to the steel door.

Francis blew a smoke ring into the air and flashed his usual cruel grin.

“How many inmates do you think there are on the other side of those big steel doors Wiley?  Twenty? A hundred?”

“There must be hundreds, maybe even thousands! I could hear them clearly when I had my ear to the door. I think a couple of them were doing the same thing I was doing, pressing their ear to the door! They were discussing that one of them thought he had heard a dog bark,” answered Wiley, still whispering.

“Really? What were the bad boys saying?” whispered Francis.

“They were talking about they couldn’t wait to get a hold of some fresh meat. I don’t think they were talking about the dogs however. I think they were framing the words fresh meat in a sexual way. They are anxious to get acquainted with the women in the Fontainebleau Tower.”

“I reckon they may be fantasizing about that.”

Francis continued to eye the double steel doors while smoking his cigar for the next three or four minutes. Finally, Francis threw his spent thin cigar down to the concrete floor. Then he removed another of his thin cigars from his vest pocket and struck another match. The light from the wooden match illuminated his unshaven face. Once he had his cigar fired up he blew a perfect smoke ring into the air. The smoke slowly dispersed in the direction of the service tunnel they had just traversed.

“At least the wind is blowing in the right direction in this dark ass tunnel.  Jungen…teilweise…augerblick!” exclaimed Francis pointing his hand into the dark tunnel.

The three dogs scrambled into the dark.

“What did you just tell them Francis?”

Francis laughed.

“You better get moving after them Wiley! I just told them to get their little butts halfway down this tunnel and to wait for me.”

“What? Why did you tell them that? Is something about to happen?” asked Wiley nervously while keeping his voice low.

Francis paused and blew another smoke ring, then focused his steel blue eyes on his young friend.

“You never know with me Wiley, but damn, I like to have fun while living my life.”

Francis removed one of his Colt 1911 pistols from one of his holsters and walked up to the left steel door as Wiley watched with fear written on his face. Then the Reaper hit the steel door three times, loudly. The murmurs and noise seeping through the steel doors ceased.

Francis flashed his cruel smile at Wiley and blew another smoke ring. Then he spoke loudly to break the silence in the air.

“Knock, knock!” he yelled.

At first there was no response. Wiley’s body started to shake from head to toe. Francis struck the steel door again three times with the butt of his pistol.

“Knock, knock!” he yelled once again.

“Francis! Are you crazy?” hissed Wiley.

After ten seconds Wiley and Francis could hear a response from the other side of the door.

“Who’s there?” asked a gruff voice.

Francis blew another smoke ring into the air and grinned at the now nervous Wiley.

“Armageddon!” yelled Francis.

“Francis! You are crazy!” hissed Wiley.

“Maybe, but this sure is fun.”

Finally a voice from the opposite side of the door responded. This voice sounded much gruffer than the previous one.

“Armageddon who?”

“Francis!” hissed Wiley.

Francis waited for a moment until his lungs had the capacity to blow another perfect smoke ring.

“This is gonna’ be good,” he said softly.

The leader of the Reaper crew threw his cigar on the concrete floor and didn’t bother to snuff out the smoke.

“Armageddon the hell out of here you assholes!” he answered loudly.

The sound of hundreds of steel pipes and clubs beating on the two heavy doors immediately filled the tunnel.

“I reckon we better get out of here Wiley!” exclaimed Francis.

Wiley took off down the tunnel at a dead run, using the headlamp on his hat to see where he was running to. Francis started to stroll down the tunnel as the sound of the beating on the doors increased. He was in no hurry.

During his trip through the service tunnel Francis stopped and placed two more of his deadly poison bombs on emergency lights mounted on the walls of the tunnel. After ten minutes he arrived to where his German Shepherds, the Jack Russell terrier and Wiley were waiting. The dogs were sitting on the floor as if they hadn’t a care in the world, perking their ears and absorbing the consistent sound of fists and clubs striking the steel doors and echoing through the tunnel. Wiley was hopping around nervously.

“We need to get moving Francis! It’s just a matter of time before those fuckers find or get something to break down those locked doors!”

“There is no need to hurry Wiley. They haven’t broken through those big ass doors…yet.”

Francis focused his attention on his three dogs and issued additional commands in German.

“Major, Sarge...gohe! Tiger…augenblick!”

The two German Shepherds rose to all fours and watched Francis, as if waiting to receive their next command. The small dog continued to calmly sit on the concrete in the service tunnel. He had received his next command.

“All right Francis! I can tell you this! When or if we get out of this jam I am gonna’ take Lynn up on her offer to teach me German! What did you just tell the dogs to do?”

“I just told Tiger to wait right here while I told Major and Sarge to return to the entry double doors at the Grand Ballroom. The dogs know what I have in mind and all four of us have done this many times before. It isn’t that complicated. Why?”

Wiley was looking around in desperation while hearing the threatening sounds being generated by the inmates beating on the double steel doors in the distance.

“You are going to leave little Tiger at the halfway point of this dark tunnel to hell? To do what? Is he tough enough to tear up the ten thousand crazy mother fuckers that will be coming down this tunnel in a few minutes? How tough can an alpha male be?”

Francis laughed and blew one of his trademark smoke rings.

“Alpha males are always tough Wiley. You will find that out in the future and one of these days you may become an alpha male. You just better be careful my friend. That little fucker understands English perfectly and listening to you might make him want to test you. Tiger will run back to the entrance of the Grand Ballroom once he realizes he can’t stop the crazies to get Major and Sarge for help. That will warn us that danger is on the way. You need to relax and enjoy the moment Wiley. It isn’t often in life that things like this happen. You will remember this night one day when you are an old man and realize that it was one of the high points in your life, or maybe one of the low points. At any rate, tonight will not be a dull night and you will remember it in detail…if you live through it.”

Wiley fell to one knee and started to stroke Tiger’s small head. The little dog started to lick the new scout’s right hand.

“I can’t do that to this brave little dog Francis! I am going to stay right here to make sure that he is okay if that is okay with you.”

Francis grinned, put out his spent cigar and lit another.

“Okay. You are a big boy Wiley and more importantly, you are now a scout. Scouts are free to do what they think they need to do. You are a good man. Stay here and make sure Tiger will be safe. Me and the German Shepherds will be waiting for you two at the exit doors to the Grand Ballroom. Stay alert.”

Francis flashed his small flashlight at the service tunnel wall on his left.

“That’s what I was looking for. That is another perfect spot to plant one of my surprises. Tiger will let you know when it is time to get the hell on down the tunnel Wiley. Don’t be a hard headed Chuluota hero you son of a bitch. We have had a lot of dead heroes in the Free America movement and they have been of no help since they got killed.”

Francis placed one of his lethal black tubes on the emergency lights on the wall and headed down the tunnel with Major and Sarge trotting beside him, leaving his young friend and the Jack Russell terrier alone in the tunnel. Suddenly, Francis turned and spoke to Wiley once again.

“Say, I am out of dog biscuits Wiley. I sure hope you have some in one of your pockets.”

Wiley searched his right vest pocket and found there were none. He was beginning to panic. He desperately searched his left vest pocket and found he had six dog biscuits left. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I have six Francis!” he exclaimed proudly.

Francis walked back to the young man kneeling beside Tiger and took the six dog biscuits.

“Good man Wiley,” he said taking the six dog biscuits from Wiley’s right hand.

Francis tossed one dog biscuit to Tiger and one each to Major and Sarge.

“We should have just enough dog biscuits to pull off this operation.”

“What do you mean Francis?” cried Wiley with alarm in his voice.

“Well, we owed the dogs three dog biscuits for coming back here and waiting on us. I am out of dog biscuits so if you didn’t have at least three extra dog biscuits to go to the next step of my plan the mutts would have stayed here and made a stand.”

“What? What the hell do you mean, make a stand?” yelled Wiley.

Francis grinned and blew a smoke ring into the air.

“It means we would have been here in this tunnel a long time for Major and Sarge to kill ten thousand crazy mother fuckers. I am sure glad you had those dog biscuits Wiley. We could have been here a long, long time.”

Then the leader of the Reaper crew turned and headed north into the dark tunnel with Sarge and Major once again walking beside him.

“Wait Francis! Shouldn’t you leave me at least one dog biscuit?”

Francis paused and turned looking back at Wiley.

“Maybe, but that will depend on how fast you can run Wiley so you need to haul ass. I don’t have a spare dog biscuit on my body.”

Then he turned and continued his journey down the tunnel, leaving Wiley and Tiger alone in the dark. Wiley couldn’t see his hand in front of his face and he thought he heard Francis chuckling softly as he left.

Wiley watched his departure while petting Tiger’s head. The small dog was sitting calmly on his haunches beside the new scout licking his wrist between pats to his small head letting him know that he was still there. Wiley rummaged around in his vest and jacket pockets and finally located his small pen light. Thankfully, the battery was still working.

“Francis is a crazy mother fucker, little man, leaving me and you here in this dark ass tunnel alone. I will stay right here with you until the end,” said Wiley softly while still petting the small dog’s head. He uttered the statement softly so the departing Francis could not hear what he had said.

The sounds of crazed inmates beating on the double steel doors continued for ten or more minutes as Wiley and Tiger waited at the halfway point of the service tunnel. For Wiley, it seemed like an hour wait.

“I sure hope you know what to do Tiger, when all hell breads loose because I don’t have a clue. After all, Francis said you have done this before so I am depending on you,” said Wiley while continuing to stroke the small dog’s ears on the top of his head.

Suddenly, the roar of hostile noise grew to loud proportions in the tunnel. The Jack Russell terrier straightened his small ears, rose to all fours and straightened his small body, lifting his right leg pointing in the direction of the clamor for a few seconds.

“What the fuck does that mean Tiger?” asked Wiley shining his small light on the terrier.

The small dog looked up at Wiley for a split second, then quickly turned and hauled ass in the direction of the service tunnel to join up with his two big four legged brothers and his master. Wiley watched as the small dog streaked away, finding it difficult to frame the small darting animal with his narrow beam of light from his pen light.

“Oh shit!” exclaimed Wiley watching the brown butt of the terrier disappear into the dark.

Wiley jumped to his feet and began to run, chasing after the small dog.  Within ten seconds the small dog had disappeared from his view. The roar of angry men’s screams and the sound of clubs hitting the walls of the service tunnel increased in intensity.

After two minutes of running as fast as he could, Wiley finally saw the Jack Russell terrier waiting, standing at the final elbow of the service tunnel two hundred feet from where he was presently located. The small dog was making sure that Wiley knew the path to take to escape. When Wiley was thirty feet away the small animal took off once again in the direction of the exit. This time Tiger was barking his head off, sounding his warning alarm for Francis and the Shepherds. Behind him Wiley could hear the growing sound of footsteps and the clatter of clubs on the tiled walls of the tunnel. The mass of Sin City inmates were closing ground. As Wiley attempted to make the turn in the service tunnel he lost his footing and sprawled across the concrete floor. The impact had knocked the breath out of his lungs. While lying on the cold hard surface, Tiger returned and started to nip at Wiley’s legs, motivating the young scout to rise to his feet. Wiley and the dog took off again. In the distance the young man could see Francis leaning against one of the opened doors smoking one of his trademark cigars. Tiger burst into the Grand Ballroom and was greeted by Major and Sarge. Both of the big dogs began to lick his small face displaying they were happy to see that he had completed his dangerous task. Wiley burst through the opening and sprawled across the red and gold carpet face down, breathing heavily.

Francis had not moved and watched as the young man struggled to roll over on his side and rise to rest on his right elbow. Wiley laboriously pointed at the open door.

“You…need…to …close…that. ..door…Francis! Now!” Wiley gasped falling flat on his back.

Francis called his three dogs to where he was standing. The three dogs quickly moved to sit in front of their master, ignoring Wiley gasping on the floor.

“Good boys,” he said while giving the animals their rewards.             

From the open door of the service tunnel the roar of men approaching grew louder. Francis stepped into the opening and directed his powerful flashlight beam in the direction of where Wiley had sprawled on the concrete floor, less than two hundred feet away from the exit. Twenty seconds later men started to do the same thing Wiley had done, slipping and falling on the slick concrete floor, piling up on one another.

In his right hand Francis held one of his deadly pipe bombs. On the right wall twenty yards away on an emergency light was another. Francis calmly watched as the Sin City inmates scrambled to regain their footing. Finally, hundreds charged at the man in black standing at the opening to the Grand Ballroom.

Francis waited until the mass of men were less than one hundred feet away when he pressed a red button on the side of his black pipe bomb and tossed it to the floor ten feet away. Then he calmly closed the twenty foot steel door and set its cast iron bolts into the concrete floor.

There was no sound of explosions, only the sound of men falling to the ground releasing their weapons to clatter on the concrete floor of the service tunnel, attempting to find oxygen that wasn’t laced with poison.

Francis walked over to Wiley who was still lying on his back, red faced, attempting to regain his wind.

“Excuse me Wiley but I need to get to the other door. It sounds like Amanda and Little Jimbo are bringing some unwanted friends home with them tonight. Just lay here until you feel a little better.”

Then the scout dressed in black strolled over to the steel doors located to the right of the Grand Ballroom.

Wiley managed to rise to where he was supported by his right elbow secured against the red and gold carpet of the Grand Ballroom. He watched as Francis stopped at the opening with his three dogs pacing uneasily back and forth behind him. Wiley managed to gain a sitting position and removed his AK47 slung on his back. While he struggled to his feet using the assault weapon for leverage he watched as his friend calmly put out one of his thin cigars and lit another. He was also surprised to see the young leader throw three dog biscuits to each of his animals. As he staggered over to Francis he finally got his second wind. Francis was peering down the dark tunnel and turned to speak with Wiley.

“Finally get your legs back?”

“Francis! I thought you were out of dog biscuits!” yelled Wiley.

Francis laughed.

“I am never out of dog biscuits Wiley. Obviously, you were. I just gave you a lesson to live by if you start traveling with dogs. They can save your life, just because of a dog biscuit.”

Wiley was still breathing hard but now he could at least stand. He peered down the service tunnel along with Francis.

“Do you want to take Tiger down the tunnel a few hundred feet and do what you just did again? It is a good way to get in shape and a lot of fun to watch. Are you in shape Wiley?” asked Francis with a grin.

Wiley weakly laughed.

“I thought I was. That little dog left me in the dust. But damn! That was kind of fun, just like you said. I certainly will remember that if I live. Hell, I just about died the last three minutes laying in the Grand Ballroom of the Sahara Casino in Las Vegas!”

Francis laughed.

“We are gonna’ be fine Wiley. Sounds like Amanda and Jimbo are going through the same thing you just went through. The next few minutes should be interesting to say the least.”

At that moment Jake, Thor and Studly bolted through the open door into the Grand Ballroom. All three newly arrived animals congregated with Francis’s three animals, as if having a family reunion.

“Here Wiley, give them their rewards and cover me for a minute. I don’t think Amanda and Jimbo are gonna’ have the time to plant any of their poison tubes.”

Then the young leader slipped into the tunnel. Using his small flashlight he found an emergency light on the right side of the tiled wall twenty yards into the service tunnel. He placed one of the black bombs on top of the device, then stopped and listened. The roar of men and the sounds of pipes being struck on the tile walls were very near.

Francis paused a little longer listening to the sounds echoing down the tunnel. He rummaged into his small canvas bag and using his pen light located what he was looking for. He moved to stand against the left wall of the service tunnel disappearing into the dark.

“Francis! What the hell are you doing?”

“Just wait right where you are Wiley. When I come through that door you close it and bolt it down as quickly as you can. This might be close. A few of those creeps might make it through before you can secure the door so have your pistol ready to use. Something is not right. I think Amanda and Jimbo might have run into a surprise.”

Francis used his powerful small flashlight to illuminate the mirror image of the elbow bend Wiley had encountered in the east tunnel. A minute passed when Amanda and Little Jimbo turned the ninety degree angle. The experienced scouts did not sprawl across the concrete floor, which was a good thing they didn’t do. Behind Amanda and Little Jimbo hundreds of inmates failed to keep their footing causing a logjam of bodies on the floor. As the Pale Rider and Little Jimbo made their mad dash to the opening where Wiley was standing they never saw Francis standing against the dark wall. When the two scouts rushed by him Francis stepped out into the middle of the service tunnel with one of his pipe bombs in his right hand. As the inmates of the two gangs of Sin City prison started to rise to their feet at the turn in the tunnel a small black tube slid on the concrete surface less than ten feet away. The light from the torches the inmates were toting provided the necessary illumination to see the black device and a blinking red Led light.

As Francis turned to walk to where Wiley was waiting a violent explosion erupted at the elbow to the tunnel. Francis’s hat was blown off his head from the concussion. He stopped to pick up his hat and slowly place it back on his head, five feet away from Wiley, guarding the opening to the Grand Ballroom. In the background behind Wiley, Francis could hear Amanda and Little Jimbo gasping for breath lying on the carpeted floor, urging Wiley to close the steel door quickly.

As Francis entered the room he pressed a red button on another one of his black boxes and then stood against the one secured steel door while Wiley closed the door that was open. There was total silence in the Grand Ballroom, other than Amanda and Little Jimbo lying on their backs gasping for air.

Wiley pushed the metal bolts into the concrete and locked the exit door. He finally leaned against the big door next to Francis and exhaled a breath of relief.

“Man, that was close, real close.”

Francis took a deep breath of cigar smoke and eyed Amanda and Little Jimbo who were still lying on the floor of the Grand Ballroom.

“Naw, it wasn’t even close. I don’t know why the two of them were running though.”

Francis moved away from the two doors and stood over Amanda.

“What happened?”

Amanda was finally regaining her ability to speak. Jimbo, on the other hand, was still struggling, probably because of his cigarette smoking habit.

“We got down to the other end and when we were thirty yards away the doors just opened up. We saw them and they saw us. I dropped two of my pipe bombs but the ones in front managed to rush through the gas before it spread. We took off running to avoid the gas because there was a stiff breeze blowing at our backs. Once we put some distance between them and us I dropped two more pipe bombs but the pack that was right on our butts managed to avoid that gas too. I saw you against the wall so I knew you had something planned.”

Francis laughed.

“I believe you Amanda. Are you gonna’ live Jimbo?”

Jimbo managed to sit up but was in the midst of a cough attack.

“I think so.”

“Me and Wiley along with the pack are going to the stairwell to help out Lynn, Janie and Emily. We will wait for you two there but don’t take too long.”

Then the leader of the Reaper crew headed across the big room to the north. Wiley sauntered up to the two sitting scouts and lit a cigarette.

“Want a smoke Jimbo?” he asked.

Jimbo waved his hand back and forth indicating he declined the offer.

“Man, you two need to go through basic training and get back in shape.”

Then he turned and followed Francis.

Amanda turned to look at Jimbo.

“Do you want me to shoot him now or later?” she asked.

Jimbo nodded his head yes but could not verbally respond because of all his coughing.

* * * * *

Chapter Seventeen

Party on the Roof

Lynn, Calamity Jane and the Black Widow were standing behind a large air conditioning unit on the roof of the Grand Ballroom looking across its vast expanse. This was, even by Las Vegas standards, a large roof on a building. The Night Ranger reckoned the roof was the size of four football fields in width and length. There was a three quarter to almost full moon out tonight offering some illumination in the night and the air was still warm in the Sin City prison from the day’s sun. In the distance the three female scouts from Free America could hear the steady drone of the sound of wooden and metal clubs being struck on trash lids and various other objects of metal. It was, by any measure, an ominous sound.

“This is the biggest damn roof I have ever been on in my life. It must be two hundred yards away to the street side from where we are standing and twice as wide! It sounds like the natives are restless tonight too,” said Calamity Jane.

This was a statement from a woman who never seemed to get rattled about anything.

“Yes, it has to be at least four hundred yards wide. It is hard to believe we are standing on a hot ass roof in Las Vegas with thousands of crazy mother fuckers on the streets below congregating for the kill. This roof looks more like a big parking lot than a roof. This isn’t the Las Vegas vacation I have dreamed about or seen in any movie, that’s for sure. Add in the sound of the restless natives and I start thinking about some horror or science fiction flick,” added Emily.

Lynn looked around to see four hundred foot soldiers of the Dykes standing behind her who had exited from the two double doors of the stairwell to the roof. They were crouched low in the dark shadow of the Fontainebleau Tower which was cast across the Grand Ballroom roof. In the distance to the south Lynn could see a thousand or more torches burning on what looked to be a high parking garage. In the dim torchlight three hundred yards away she could see bodies moving about on the top three floors. The experienced scout realized what she was viewing immediately. She could smell an ambush. Lynn turned quickly and shouted an order.

“Okay ladies! There are ten big air conditioning units strewn across the roof running along this wall behind us. Divide up and take cover behind the units now! Make sure the double steel doors in the Fontainebleau Tower in the concrete wall behind each metal box are open for easy access in case we have to seek a more secure shelter! Once those siege towers get in place and the gang members start running across the ramps to the roof of the Grand Ballroom open up with your pneumatic bows. We should be able to pick them off like shooting fish in a barrel once they are out in the open. Make your shots count and I hope you all have brought a lot of arrows! I believe we are in for fight,” said the Night Ranger.

The four hundred foot soldiers scrambled across the roof to take their sheltered positions behind the metal encasings of the roof top units. Some of the Dykes went to each set of double doors and opened them slightly, placing an arrow between the two doors to make sure they could be opened quickly. There is nothing like trying to open a door when attempting to move through it quickly. Sometimes, grabbing a door handle in the dark of night can be difficult. In this case tonight, a slight delay like that could prove to be deadly.

“I hope these metal boxes are strong enough to provide cover for everyone. At least they are made of a heavy gauge metal,” said Emily looking over the roof top units.

“Hell, at ten feet in height and thirty feet wide I think they will suffice. I just wish the structures were a little lower so we could fire over them,” answered Janie surveying the units.

“They certainly are wide enough but they present us with a problem. The problem is they are kind of tall. The only way to fire off a bow or one of the chain guns is to pop out from one side of the unit or the other. That means only twenty shots can be fired at a time from all the boxes and the person firing an arrow will be exposed for a second or two. We should have constructed some six foot high platforms to afford us more firepower but it is too late now. We will have to deal with it,” said Lynn.

“Joe, Lydia and Sandra along with the foot soldiers should be in position on the sixth, seventh and eight floor of the Fontainebleau Tower fairly soon. With two thousand archers above us we should be good I would think. All they have to do is break the glass on the exterior of the tower and fire away once the battle starts,” said Jane.

“That may be true but glass doesn’t offer much protection and once the glass is broken I am worried about them being exposed to whatever the assholes may be throwing at us,” said Lynn.

“Exposed to what Lynn? Those creeps can’t throw a steel or wooden club that far!” said Jane.

“Francis was telling me the two gangs might have a weapon called a scorpio that was developed by the Romans. He thinks that the Latino Kings must have found a book in Caesar’s Palace gift shop that was about how the Romans used to develop siege machines, because of the siege towers coming down the strip. Francis said the scorpio machines would be easy to build and there is plenty of material in these abandoned towers to fashion crude arrows. He also told me there may be machines called ballistas which are also crossbows that can fire off rocks with great velocity, enough to split someone’s head wide open. If there are machines like that, they would be located on the parking garage to the south at the same height we are. Use your scope and tell me if you see anything Janie, but keep your head out of sight as much as possible.”

“Francis, he is such a positive man,” sighed Jane.

Janie placed the scope on her Big X to her eye and aimed the weapon at the parking garage containing the torches. After thirty seconds she lowered her weapon with a look of worry on her face. The redhead was not happy with what she saw through her scope.

“I see some strange contraptions on the two lower floors made of wood sitting on wooden tripods and some larger contraptions on the top floor. They definitely look like weapons but I have never seen them before. What does worry me is I see wheelbarrows on the top floor loaded with rocks sitting by the wood contraptions. There are a lot of metal wheelbarrows and crude wood carts with big wooden wheels, the type of thing that could easily be rolled up a parking garage ramp.”

“How many do you see?” asked Lynn.

“I saw hundreds on all three floors and there has to be two, three thousand gang members on each floor. I don’t know if they saw us sneak on the roof but all of the inmates seem to be looking in this direction.”

“How many drums did you bring for you and Emily?” asked Lynn.

“For the Big X chain guns? We each brought four, the same as you. The question is, how many pipe bombs did you bring? I saw you grab your black canvas bag before we came up the stairwell. I hope you brought along a lot of your pipe bombs,” said Jane.

“Yeah, I brought four drums for my chain gun too. I don’t know if that will be enough bullets. There are a lot of loonies on those three floors. Hand me my canvas bag,” replied Lynn.

Janie carefully picked up the lethal canvas bag and gingerly handed the sack to Lynn.

“You have a good hold of the bag…right?” asked Janie locking eyes with Lynn.

“I have it Janie! Good grief! Nothing will go off if you drop it by accident! Francis and I always construct our poisons and explosives with a detonator switch that activates a timer or sensor. Relax, girl!”

Lynn opened the black, heavy duty canvas bag and placed ten pipe bombs of varying lengths on the surface of the roof.

“Damn, I didn’t bring enough! Francis is toting the canvas bag with the heavy stuff.”

Now Janie was starting to get nervous.

“Well, what do you have?” asked Emily.

“I have two high explosive pipe bombs, three of my poison bombs with the thirty second poison, three of my poison bombs with the two minute poison and two with the bad ass stuff that lasts two hours. We will not be using these two bad boys unless it gets really bad. I wish I would have brought more explosives with me.”

Lynn placed two of her pipe bombs back into the canvas sack.

“Good God Lynn, are those the pipes that contain the poison that kills anything? Those were the two smallest pipes!” exclaimed Jane.

“It doesn’t take much for a mass kill my friend. We can use these two explosive pipe bombs to blow up two of those siege towers and these three thirty second poison bombs to get some of those fuckers on the top floor of the parking garage if we can figure out a way to deliver them. It depends on how good a shot one of these Dykes is with a pneumatic bow. Lydia seemed to be a damn good shot with one of those bows when we used the pipe bombs on the Las Vegas Trail to kill off the Hussein Mounted patrols at Jimbo’s rock a couple of days ago. You have any string or tape in your backpack Janie?”

“Do I look like Little Jimbo? Hell no, I don’t have any tape or string! Wait! I have an extra set of leather shoelaces for my hiking boots in my pocket! Will that work?” said Calamity Jane.

“It will have to I reckon. I think I can manage. Francis has taught me how to tie some pretty fancy knots,” answered the Night Ranger.

Janie reached into the right pocket of her leather riding pants and pulled out a set of new leather boot laces still contained in a small wrapping. Lynn grabbed the set of laces and proceeded to cut them into pieces with her knife into smaller lengths. Then she turned to the captain of the Dykes who had accompanied her to the roof.

“What is your name?”

“My name is Konnie, with a K,” the brunette answered.

“It is nice to meet you Konnie with a K and I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances but we both will have to deal with it. I had Lydia fire off several of her arrows the other day with one of these pipe bombs attached to each arrow. They weigh around two pounds each and the shots were pretty demanding pertaining to accuracy but not near what I need now. If I attached one of these pipes to one of your arrows do you think you could hit that siege tower turning the corner off the Strip from here?”

While Lynn was speaking the Free America scouts and the Dykes stationed on the two hundred foot walkway on the perimeter wall of the clubhouse located on the Las Vegas Strip were engaging the inmates in the first siege tower with their automatic weapons and arrows. The bullets and the arrows were proving to be ineffective on the heavily armored, slow moving tower.  The heavy structure continued down the street running south alongside the Grand Ballroom, towed by hundreds of inmates using ropes and steel cables on the surface of the roadway far below.

Lynn quickly tied one of her explosive pipe bombs to one of Konnie’s aluminum bows using Jane’s boot laces. The foot soldier placed the arrow in her pneumatic bow and hefted the weapon up and down in her hands several times. Then the Dyke foot soldier turned to eye the slow moving siege tower that was a good two hundred yards away.

“I will set my weapon to ten. The arrow might drift six inches lower from where I want to place my shot at three hundred yards because of the additional weight. Where do you want me to aim my shot?” she asked while eying the siege tower.

“I reckon you need to clear the edge of the roof by a foot or so at least. Just hit the top part of the tower as low as possible on its wall on the north of the structure. That is the part that serves as a ramp,” answered Lynn.

“I take it you don’t want the arrow to bounce. I see an opening at the corner of the tower where I can place my shot. The package might breach the interior of the tower.”

Konnie aimed her bow and took a deep breath. She stood very still for several seconds until she pulled the trigger. The arrow rushed out of the end of the bow and flashed across the roof in less than two seconds. Konnie’s shot was true. The top part of the siege tower exploded violently, sending metal and men’s bodies flying into the nighttime air to fall on top of the convicts on the street below. The sound of the blast echoed off the wall of the Fontainebleau Tower.

At the same time the explosion happened, a cascade of arrows and rocks started to fly through the moonlit night, pummeling the ten air conditioning units and striking the concrete wall of the Fontainebleau Tower behind the assemblage of Dyke foot soldiers and the three female scouts on the roof. More than a thousand projectiles flew through the air or bounced along on the roof the first five seconds after the siege tower exploded.

“Holy shit! I guess they know we are here now!” yelled Emily as the barrage continued.

Lynn peeked around the corner of the air conditioning unit quickly to take a look at the siege tower. The damaged structure was now moving away from where it was when Konnie had placed her shot. The inmates on the street below immediately knew that the siege tower was now useless in its present condition. To Lynn, it appeared that they had reacted quickly, which worried her.

“You can scratch one siege tower but I can see another being moved into place! Do you think you can reach that parking garage from here with your pneumatic bow with a similar pipe bomb in weight, Konnie with a K?” asked the Night Ranger.

The young Dyke foot soldier stepped out from behind the air conditioning unit to take a quick look at the parking garage. As she did, a long silver tube of metal four feet in length blasted through her chest knocking her back fifteen feet on the tarmac covered roof. Konnie landed on the left side of her body, not moving. Her pneumatic bow flew high into the air to land at Lynn’s feet.

Lynn and her two scout friends stepped back and flattened their bodies against the metal structure. For a brief second, everyone froze dealing with the horror what had just occurred.

At first Jane started to move in the direction of the young foot soldier lying on the Grand Ballroom roof to help her.  Lynn grabbed her friend’s arm and held it tightly. As she did several more crude arrows made of metal and wood impaled Konnie’s prone body, rolling it along the roof for a few seconds until Konnie’s body could roll no farther because of the long arrows sticking through her body. When her body finally quit rolling, several more arrows struck her body.

“She’s dead Jane! She can’t be helped! Don’t do anything stupid! Get back here and hand me that pneumatic bow lying at your feet!”

Jane, Emily and the foot soldiers taking shelter along with Lynn at first started to freeze because of the onslaught of lethal debris rapidly moving through the air on each side of their location. They could hear many of the projectiles striking the large metal box affording them protection while tens of arrows skipped along the roof to smash into the concrete wall behind them. Several more arrows that were fired too high struck the concrete wall directly above the double steel doors of the Fontainebleau Tower. The only person who finally started to move was the Night Ranger and she was scrambling. She picked up the pneumatic bow because of Jane’s inaction and quickly tied one of her poison bombs to another arrow. She loaded the arrow into the bow and then looked around at all the deadly flying projectiles moving through the air..

“What are you doing Lynn? You can’t step out into the open to fire that weapon! You will be killed!” said Emily.

Lynn looked to her right down the line of air conditioning units to see several bodies of the Dyke’s foot soldiers lying on the roof. Konnie with a K was not alone. There were several dead foot soldiers lying on the asphalt roof with many arrows sticking in their lifeless bodies. These foot soldiers were the ones who had jumped out to fire back at the enemy once the attack started.

The Night Ranger moved fifteen feet back in the direction of the concrete wall of the Fontainebleau Tower directly in the center of the air conditioning unit keeping the metal box between her and the parking garage for protection. Lynn couched down with the air powered bow and her specially built arrow, not moving. She could see Jane, Emily and forty of the Dyke foot soldiers hugging the metal structure in her line of view as arrows and rocks flew over her head to shatter against the concrete wall thirty feet directly behind her. She knew where she was crouching and she knew she was safe for now.

“What the hell are you doing Lynn? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” yelled Calamity Jane.

“Shut up Janie! We have to fight this some way! I have an idea!”

Lynn continued to stay where she was for thirty more seconds. From where she crouched she could see another siege tower moving down the access street but they were of no threat to her for now. While she crouched she saw several more Dyke foot soldiers fall to the deadly onslaught of arrows. They were either brave to fight or beginning to panic. Which emotion that was overtaking the women she wasn’t sure of.  The Night Ranger in the woman started to emerge. She held the bow to where she could access the black knob that controlled the air pressure. The knob was set to ten, the pressure setting Konnie had used.

“Let me see. Lydia set her knob to two when she lobbed those shots on the Las Vegas Trail at the Hussein Mounted patrols. I think that is what I need,” she muttered to herself.

The Night Ranger had a habit of talking to herself in stressful situations.

Lynn calmly twisted the knob to where the arrow was pointed precisely at the number two. Like her husband, for the moment, she seemed to be in no hurry. Then she yelled at Emily.

“Hey Emily! How strong do you think the wind is blowing?”

Emily looked at the Night Ranger with puzzlement on her face.

“What? How the hell do I know? I sure ain’t gonna’ stick my finger out into the wind to find out right now!”

“You have your notebook with you. Use the damn thing to find out from Data! I need to know now or I am gonna’ fire off this damn arrow anyhow! And make it quick because I ain’t got all night!”

Emily quickly removed her notebook computer from her backpack and began to type. Lynn yelled loudly at the Dykes behind the nearby air conditioning units after seeing two more of the foot soldiers fall to the roof with an arrow through their bodies.

“You dumb bitches! Stay behind the metal box for now! Stay behind the metal shelter and pass the word!”

Several more seconds passed and Lynn could see the second siege tower turning the corner off the Strip.

“Come on Emily! I ain’t got all night!” she yelled impatiently.

“Data says the wind is blowing steadily at five miles per hour with ten mile an hour gusts in Las Vegas tonight, at least according to the National Weather Service shit heads!”

“Great! Now ask Data how far does poison gas travel in thirty seconds?”

Emily typed on her notebook computer and soon responded.

“Data says to fire the fucking arrow!” she yelled.

Lynn moved the pneumatic bow into position aiming high at more than a forty five degree angle. Then she pulled the trigger. Miraculously, the arrow found its way through the onslaught of rocks and arrows flying over the Night Ranger’s head.

Lynn scrambled back to her canvas bag and hastily readied two more arrows with the leather boot laces and her thirty second poison pipe bombs. While preparing her hybrid weapon she spoke to Jane.

“See if you can find a way to access the interior of that big damn box! We need to find a place to fire more than two damn weapons at a time without getting killed every time we step out to make a shot.”

“What?”

Lynn pounded on the side of the metal structure.

“See if you can find a way to get inside of this box!” she yelled.

Then she scrambled back to where she fired off the first arrow, crouching out in the open.

She once again used the pneumatic bow to fire off her deadly arrow. She stayed in a crouching position on the Grand Ballroom roof for the next thirty seconds waiting to see if her efforts were paying off.

The Night Ranger suddenly realized that there were no rocks pounding against the concrete wall behind her. The only objects now flying through the air were arrows made of wood and metal from the parking garage.

Lynn quickly moved to stand next to Jane and Emily behind the air conditioning unit.

“I think I got the top floor of the parking garage with my poison but that won’t last long. It might frighten them off for a few minutes until they realize the poison is not in the air anymore but at least it will make them think and be a little more cautious. It might also give us some more time to figure out a way to access this metal box!”

Suddenly pieces of glass started to rain down on the roof behind them. At the same moment hundreds of arrows started to stream out of the seventh, eighth and ninth floor of the Fontainebleau Tower. Joe, Lydia, Sandra and the two thousand Dyke archers had finally arrived to their stations and started to engage the enemy in the parking garage.

“That should give us some help!” exclaimed Jane.

The barrage of arrows from the parking garage shifted to target the Dyke archers on the three floors of the Fontainebleau Tower. Soon, several bodies fell out of the three floors to the roof below between the air conditioning units and the wall.

“The archers are sitting ducks up there just like us unless they find something to duck behind. Glass won’t stop those arrows!” said Emily.

“We can’t pop out to use the chain guns without getting shot!” exclaimed Jane.

“We need to get in this metal box to establish a sniper’s blind!” yelled Lynn.

Suddenly, the double steel doors opened behind the air conditioning unit where the three female scouts had hunkered down for the heat of the battle. At first, all that could be seen was a black opening. Then a cloud of cigar smoke drifted out into the air to be whisked away by the wind.

While the arrows were still flying in the air hitting just above the two open doors Little Jimbo, Amanda and Wiley darted the thirty feet across the roof to join the three female scouts behind the air conditioning unit.

“Boy, this sure has been a shitty day in Sin City! Every since we set foot in this fucked up place it has been a constant fight!” exclaimed Amanda flattening out against the metal wall of the air conditioning unit.

“Where is Francis? He is okay isn’t he?” asked Lynn.

“Hell yeah, he is okay. He is standing in the stairwell finishing up one of his damn cigars, watching!” yelled Amanda.

“What happened in the service tunnels?” asked Janie.

“We killed a tunnel full of inmates to start with! Then Francis had to go and kill Jimbo’s and Amanda’s tunnel full of inmates! That’s why we are a little late getting here because we had to climb the stairs waiting on Jimbo and Amanda to catch their breath because they are out of shape!” exclaimed Wiley with a grin.

Wiley was making Lynn nervous because he didn’t know who he was teasing. She noticed that Amanda was starting to get tense.

“Not now Amanda! You can shoot him or bitch slap him later!” said Lynn.

“I have been thinking about it,” responded the fiery blonde while glaring at Wiley.

“Francis! Francis! I need some help out here!” exclaimed Lynn.

“I wonder how Francis and Amanda are faring below? Who was asking that stupid question fifteen minutes ago?” asked Emily.

No one answered at first. Finally Lynn spoke.

“I told you that I was sure Amanda and Francis are fine. They look like they have had an easier time of it then we have had!”

No one said a word for several seconds. Finally Emily spoke. She had taken a position on the right of the metal duct work. Now that the barrage of arrows was not so great she took a quick peek at the garage and the roof.

“Holy shit! I see several towers creeping along the edge of the roof coming from the Strip! I don’t see anything moving on the top floor of the parking garage but I see a lot of bodies on the two floors below!”

“Francis! Get over here and quit playing games!” yelled Lynn.

“I will be there in a minute! I am pulling a Schultz!” he yelled.

“He is pulling a Schultz? What in the hell is that?” asked Wiley.

Several of the female scouts snickered. Jimbo even laughed out loud.

“He is marking his territory Wiley!” exclaimed Jimbo.

“What does that mean?” persisted Wiley with his line of questioning.

“Oh good grief you green scout! Haven’t you ever owned a damn dog before? He is taking a pee somewhere in the stairwell landing! My Lord!” said Amanda.

“He better hurry because there are now four towers coming alongside the roof!” exclaimed Emily.

Soon Francis stepped out into the double doors opening while several arrows thumped against the concrete wall just over his head. The young leader dressed in black stopped and blew a smoke ring which quickly disintegrated in the light wind. As one large wooden arrow struck the concrete directly above his head Francis caught the projectile as it fell on his right. He looked at the wood arrow for a brief moment and finally broke it across his right knee.

He kicked several bent and broken arrows out of his path on the roof and sauntered over to where his young wife and her friends were tightly grouped together as metal and wooden arrows continued to fly through the night air. Francis didn’t seem to be in any hurry.

“It was nice of you to get in a hurry lover! We need to get in this metal box to fire our chain guns!” said Lynn.

Francis walked up to his woman and gave her a kiss on her lips. No one had seen Francis do this in the heat of any battle. The action sent chills through Jane and Emily, who had been riding with the Reaper and the Night Ranger for a long time. Both women interpreted the action as a bad sign of what might lie ahead.

“What was that for?” asked Lynn, surprised.

“Because I felt like it,” answered Francis.

“Did something happen to one of my dogs?” she asked with alarm in her voice.

“No… they are fine. I told them to stay on the stairwell landing on the fourth floor and to wait for you. All six of them will be okay staying there for now. We need to can the family discussion baby. I am running on a tight timeline.”

Than he moved to the right side of the air conditioning unit and moved Emily to stand behind him. Then he too, took a quick peek as several arrows flew through the air.

“These men certainly have a lot of ammo. The towers will be in place soon. We need to turn this metal box into a sniper’s blind.”

Lynn contained her impulse to cuss out her man. She had been trying to do that for the last five minutes.

“I have my knife! It will take me a few minutes to take out all these screws on this panel,” said Little Jimbo.

“That will be too late. I have something far faster.”

Francis took Emily’s chain gun from her hands.

“I need to borrow your toy Em. Step a little to the left everyone and cover your eyes.”

Emily had no sooner moved out of the way when Francis opened up with the chain gun from four feet away. He fired for ten seconds at point blank range. When through he kicked the shredded metal panel and a large chunk fell inside the unit. Francis stepped inside and fired short bursts at point blank range three more times. Then he stepped back outside.

“There you go ladies. There are three openings just large enough to slip the barrels of the chain guns through the holes. Take your pistols and fire off a couple of shots each if you want some peep holes to look out of but I don’t think you will need those. Just have Amanda look through a peep hole and tell you when and what direction to fire in. There are gonna’ be so many inmates on this roof in five minutes you won’t be able to miss. Wiley, you can spot for them too. I will be right back so keep my four girls busy until then.”

“Where are you going Francis?” demanded Lynn.

“I ain’t going any where, baby. I left my canvas bag in the stairwell and I am going to need it. I wasn’t really sure what was on the other side of those two doors with all the thumping that was going on. I will be right back. The next ten minutes are going to be interesting. We might be in a jam here. There are tens of thousands of animals on the ground wanting to kill us all. Thankfully, they don’t have guns but they have numbers on their side, big numbers. Jimbo, you come with me.”

The female scouts with the chain guns finally had a way to use their lethal weapons without getting impaled by an arrow. Lynn was the last to enter the pillbox and paused to watch her man and Little Jimbo disappear into the dark stairwell. Soon Francis returned with his canvas bag slung over his right shoulder, smoking one of his cigars. He was alone.

“Where is Jimbo?” asked Amanda.

“I sent him up to the floors above to move those girl archers down to the outer lobby of the Grand Ballroom.”

“Why there?” asked Lynn.

“They will be far more protected and more effective there than up on those floors where they have been getting killed. You will see in a little while. I know what to do. Oh by the way, just use up two of your chain gun drums during the coming fight and try to pile up the bodies on the roof. Once you expend your second drums I will take over from there. Wiley, when that happens I will need your help. You haven’t hurt your throwing arm since I saw you as a kid have you? You used to be able to chunk a football pretty far, even if you couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

“I can still throw a football farther than you Francis!”

“Good. That is what I want to hear.”

“The four towers have stopped Francis! The fifth one is still moving down the street! I see the walls on the siege towers facing the Fontainebleau starting to lower to the roof!” reported Amanda using her peephole.

“I reckon we are about to have some company ladies.”

Francis turned to a nearby Dyke foot soldier with blonde hair tucked underneath a Las Vegas baseball cap.

“Ma’am, what is your name?”

“My name is Connie, with a C,” she replied.

“That is how I figured Connie should be spelled,” replied Francis.

The young woman was silent for a brief moment and then pointed to a foot soldier’s body lying on the roof top twenty feet away. Francis turned to see many arrows stuck in the lifeless body.

“No, the foot soldier lying over there on the roof spelled her name with a K. She was my squadron leader.”

Francis winced at his verbal blunder.

“I’m sorry Connie with a C. I didn’t know.”

“That’s okay. It looks like in a few minutes it won’t matter what anyone’s name is.”

“I am trying to do something about that. Do the foot soldiers have a way to silently communicate with each other, like when you are out on patrol and the enemy is nearby?”

The woman with the baseball cap nodded her head yes.

“I want you to signal to your fellow foot soldiers to be ready to retreat to the open doors behind us in the tower when you give them the signal to move.”

“I can do that. When will that happen?”

“That will happen when the male inmates get halfway across this roof and I turn loose my three girls with the chain guns. The assholes in the parking garage will stop firing their arrows for fear of shooting their fellow inmates. Once my girls open up with those chain guns there will be a lot of confusion in their ranks. That will give you and your fellow soldiers an opportunity to retreat to safety…for now. Once you girls get inside head down to the Grand Ballroom and stay in the concourse outside the big room. Stay there and stay low until things get…settled down. Then all you ladies can enter the Grand Ballroom to kill any survivors.”

“I don’t understand!”

“Just do what I tell you Connie and maybe you and your friends will get out of this in one piece! Let’s just say when things get quiet a lot of company is going to drop into the Grand Ballroom for a visit!”

The young blonde nodded her head yes and started to signal her comrades hunkered down behind the nine large metal boxes resting on the roof.

“Francis! The ramps are down! Men are starting to run from all four of the towers in our direction!” exclaimed Amanda peering through her peep hole. The arrows from the distant parking garage continued to stream through the air, striking the metal air conditioning housing and the concrete wall thirty feet behind the trapped scouts and Dyke foot soldiers.

“Don’t fire yet! Let them get closer! I want to pile up as many bodies on the center of this roof as I can!” yelled Francis.

“The ramp on the fifth tower has been lowered! Men are starting to run across the roof at that access point!” reported Amanda.

Suddenly, the sound of AK47 gunfire erupted in the air. Francis looked to his right one hundred and fifty yards away. Then he looked up to the eighth floor of the Fontainebleau Tower to see muzzle flashes erupting from one of the openings where glass once existed. Little Jimbo, Lydia and Sandra were using their assault rifles. They were targeting the men exiting the fifth siege tower, the tower that was the last to be placed by the inmates.

“That works for us! Let them fire away with the AKs.  It won’t affect what we are going to do,” he said standing in the crude opening he had made earlier with Emily’s chain gun.

“Francis! The creeps are getting close!” yelled Amanda.

Francis peeked around the corner of the metal box where his three female scouts with the chain guns were, surprisingly, calmly waiting for his command.

“Open up with short bursts girls and make every bullet count! Keep shooting until they turn and retreat across the roof.”

The noise of the three chain guns reverberating inside the metal container was extremely loud. The three female scouts had removed the suppressors in their weapons to squeeze their barrels through the opening Francis had made.

Francis watched as hundreds of male inmates started to fall or spin to sprawl across the roof. Many were killed instantly from the hail of bullets but some were also wounded, lying on their faces or backs rolling to and fro, screaming loudly. The waves of men continued for what seemed like an eternity but in actuality was thirty seconds. The second and third waves of male inmates were now finding it difficult to stay on their feet while running and tripping over their fallen comrades. The assemblage of metal and wood clubs lying on the roof was undermining their ability to even walk on the roof. Many bodies of dead or dying men were lying across other bodies of dead or dying men. Just as Francis had said, soon there were piles of bodies lying on the roof, most of which were not moving. After thirty seconds of pure slaughter the male inmates turned and scrambled back in the direction of the siege towers. There were still men pouring across the five ramps resting on the roof but they were moving to each side of every ramp, watching the men who went before them run as fast as they could in their direction with terror etched in their faces.

As ordered, even though the bullets from the chain guns could easily reach their targets, the three women ceased firing.

“What is going on Francis?” yelled Lynn.

“The gang goons are going to plan B. How is your left hand?”

“It’s fine! With the barrel of the Big X stuck through this hole I don’t have to touch the gun. What do you want us to do next?” asked the Night Ranger while peeking out of a small hole in the metal wall.

“While they are trying to figure out what to do next I have something to do. Amanda, I need to borrow that flag you have in your backpack.”

“It’s lying there on the roof outside…somewhere. What do you need my flag for? This ain’t the time to be leading any damn parade Francis!”

Francis looked at the backpacks the female scouts had carried to the roof and easily identified Amanda’s lying against the metal wall. Amanda never went anywhere without her trademark flag and collapsible flag pole.

Francis removed the flag, unrolled the four foot by eight foot piece of tightly woven cotton cloth and assembled the three part flag pole.

“Nice,” he muttered to no one in particular.

“That flag kind of looks like the one we used in Texas!” exclaimed Wiley.

“You’ve seen it before when you were at the Battle of Arlington you big smart ass!” yelled Amanda while still peering through the small hole in the metal wall and the inmates across the roof.

“Wiley, put your hands together and lift me up to the top of this metal container,” ordered Francis.

“Why in the hell do you want to get on top? You will be an easy target!” exclaimed Wiley.

“Just hoist me up and hold me there for a moment and quit asking so many damn questions.”

Wiley, who was a big strong man, did as he was ordered. Francis, who was also a big strong man, had his left hiking boot cradled in Wiley’s impromptu step. Wiley hoisted Francis up to his waist and started to waiver from the weight.

Amanda moved outside the metal container and placed her hands under Francis’s right hiking boot to assist.

“Damn Francis! You are heavy with all those Colts holstered on your body! Whatever you are planning on doing, do it quick!” she exclaimed.

“I will be through in just a few seconds,” he said, removing one of Colt 1911’s from a right holster on his hip.

He fired the weapon three times into the corner of the metal roof being careful not to shoot one of his three girls still inside.

“There we go! A perfect hole!” he exclaimed.

Then he placed Amanda’s flag into the hole and the wind blowing from the south did the rest. The Free America unfurled in the brisk night wind.

“You two can put me down now!”

Francis hopped out of Amanda’s and Wiley’s cradled hands to land lightly on the roof. All three scouts looked up to see the Free America flag with the coiled rattlesnake on both sides flapping in the light breeze.

“I thought I would let those fuckers know that they are tangling with more than the Dykes tonight. I think the inmates can see it with the moonlight. Looks good, doesn’t it?”

Amanda and Wiley were looking up at the flag when Lynn yelled.

“I think that might have pissed them off Francis!”

“I think they are counting up how much bounty money is running around on this roof tonight!” added Calamity Jane.

Francis moved to where he could get a good look at the inmates congregating on the far edge of the roof.

“I think it is going to take more than two drums each to stop them!” yelled Amanda.

“I reckon it probably will take more than two drums of bullets Pale Rider but I wasn’t planning on killing them all with bullets tonight. I brought a special treat for the inmates. As a matter of fact, I brought two treats for the gangsters tonight and they ain’t dog biscuits.”

Francis bent down to pick up his canvas bag and removed two big black tubes from its interior. The tubes were sixteen inches in length and two and half inches in circumference. By pipe bomb standards, whatever the tubes contained was large.

“What is that, the two hour poison gas?” asked Wiley nervously.

“No stupid. That would kill us all with the wind blowing the way it is! Is that what I think it is?” asked Amanda.

Francis nodded his head yes.

“Uh, you guys need to hurry and get your committee meeting over with. More men are pouring out of those towers and I think they are getting ready to charge soon! They have moved some sheets made of metal onto the roof to use as shields I think!” yelled Lynn.

“What’s in the tubes?” asked Wiley.

“Semtex,” answered Amanda.

The blonde haired woman grinned and pulled a similar tube out of her backpack.

“You ain’t the only scout who likes to blow the shit out of the enemy Francis. Semtex is also called pentaerythritol tetranitrate.  It is a bad ass plastic explosive with an attitude. How many pounds do you have in your pipes?” asked Amanda.

“I used three pounds just like you. Doc gave me the plans for your bomb so I used it but I also modified your plan just a little to make it weigh six pounds.”

“Why is there additional weight? Did you pack something around the explosive you sneaky, wonderful man?” asked Amanda.

“Wiley, how many steel BB’s are in three pounds?” asked Francis.

“I don’t know! We need to get doing something Francis! Those crazies are starting to beat on those metal shields and the drumbeat is getting faster!”

“Relax everyone! They ain’t gonna be charging across the roof this time! They will be walking very cautiously. Have a cigar for now! There are six thousand BB’s in three pounds Wiley. Class is over.”

“I have a confession to make. My little pipe bomb weighs a little over four pounds,” laughed Amanda.

“I figured you would do something with the extra room in a two and half inch pipe! What did you use?” asked Francis.

“Upholstery tacks, those little sharp black ones where you find that you need to use a magnetic hammer to avoid smashing your fingers. Doc told me those things will break into smaller pieces and will tear through anything with Semtex.”

Francis tossed his remaining pipe bomb to Wiley and took Amanda’s pipe bomb out of her hands.

“I will take care of these two pipe bombs. Get in the metal room and spot for the chain gun crew Amanda. I will follow you inside in ten seconds. I just need to lay out the plan for Wiley.”

As Amanda disappeared through the jagged metal opening Lynn stuck her head out of the opening.

“Is the meeting finally over? Damn! The men are starting to move across the roof Francis! There must be ten thousand of them!”

The Night Ranger eyed the three black objects in the three scout’s hands.

“I figured we would be using those. We will need the time to get back through those double doors. That is thirty feet from here. How much time are you setting on the detonator?”

“I figure it will take us six seconds to cover the ground and close the doors,” answered Francis.

“Really? You do realize at six seconds you will have to run Francis!”

“Don’t worry baby! I will be fine! Get in there, have the girls get ready to fire those chain guns. When I tell you to leave, get out and gather your things like your guns and purses. We won’t throw the bombs until all four of you are safely inside the stairwell.”

The pretty brunette blew Francis a kiss and disappeared back into the room.

“Wiley, you take the left and I will take the right. Stay out of sight for now behind the building and don’t be peeking out around the corner. They are still taking pot shots with those arrows and I don’t need for you to get shot holding one of these babies. And Wiley, do you remember what I told you about having butter fingers? Now is the time to focus on doing one thing. I have set the timer for three seconds once the pipe lands on the roof and I figured for three seconds of time in the air. I know I can throw like a son of a bitch when I am scared and I hope you still can, like when we were kids.”

Wiley grinned.

“That was a long time ago.”

Francis nodded his head yes and then disappeared through the jagged metal opening of the air conditioning unit to watch his female scouts operate leaving Wiley alone behind the small metal building.

Chapter Eighteen

Lydia’s Appointment

Little Jimbo had scooted up three flights of metal stairs as fast as his legs could carry him to arrive at the eight floor of the Fontainebleau Tower. He opened the stairwell’s gray metal door and looked down the two hundred foot hallway on the eighth floor. What he saw caused him to hesitate. This was the hallway that was adjacent to the guest rooms on the south side of the tower, the guest rooms that faced south on the Strip that were supposed to one day offer paying guests a breathtaking view of the Las Vegas Strip. The south walls of the highest and largest tower in Las Vegas were also constructed with lightweight reflective glass, the same glass Francis had instructed Joe to break so the archers from the Dykes could use their pneumatic bows. Little Jimbo soon discovered that there was no need for anyone to kick out any glass panels. The male inmates on the eighth floor of the nearby parking garage to the south had accomplished that task with their catapult systems and their projectiles. The guest rooms were now open to the Nevada night air.

Jimbo could see stout wooden, aluminum and steel arrows, some four feet in length, shooting through the unfinished drywall on the left side of the hallway and blasting completely through the right side of the wall. Some of the crude arrows were sticking halfway out into the hallway because of a lack of velocity and some were sticking into the right side of the hallway after finding a metal stud their final stopping point. As he watched he saw tens of arrows fly completely through the hallway. To casually stroll down this hallway at this moment in time would mean almost certain death.

“Damn! I don’t think Francis or Joe foresaw this! How the hell am I gonna’ get down this hallway to give Joe the message?” he muttered out loud to no one.

Little Jimbo stood in the stairwell for twenty seconds watching the deadly projectiles decimate the unfinished hallway. Large chunks of drywall started to litter the floor of the hall. Jimbo finally noticed that the arrows were all protruding or sticking into the walls above the chair rails mounted on the walls. Because of the eighth floor’s greater height in the Fontainebleau when compared to the eighth floor of the parking garage the trajectory of the projectiles were at a greater angle. The arrows were hitting high in the hallway.

The Free America scout dropped to his hands and knees and started to crawl on floor with his belly close to the bare concrete floor. During his demanding trip large arrows flew through both walls two feet above his head sending chunks of drywall to fall on his head and back. Little Jimbo quickly completed his trip and moved into the last room on his left, staying low to the ground.

Inside the room he found Preacher Joe, Lydia and Sandra crouched behind a four foot high stack of drywall on the right side of the room that was against a concrete wall. In front of the stack of drywall someone had placed five heavy duty metal doors for added protection.

The three scouts were surprised to see him.

“Jimbo! You didn’t run down that hallway of death did you? That is crazy!” exclaimed Lydia.

Preacher Joe nodded his head in agreement.

“It was no big deal. I just took my time and strolled down the hall like Francis, placing my fate in God’s hands. He took care of me,” replied Little Jimbo with a smirk on his face.

“No way!” exclaimed Lydia.

Preacher Joe let a thin smile emerge on his face.

“Yeah, I bet you did stroll, Jimbo. It makes sense to me for a scout who hangs a lot with Francis to say something like that. Let me see, we have a Passageway of Faith out in the mountains that is usually full of rattlesnakes and dead ends at a two thousand foot cliff, a Seat of Faith where taking a dump in strong winds could be a fatal end to nature’s call, so having a Hallway of Faith in Sin City where a four foot arrow or two could instantly end your existence sounds perfectly logical to me. Why didn’t you just go up another three floors and run down that hallway to get here? They ain’t shooting at anything on the tenth floor you knucklehead! What are you doing here Little Jimbo?”

Little Jimbo stroked his chin realizing he had done a dumb thing but said nothing.

“Francis wants the archers to move downstairs to the Grand Ballroom as soon as possible, like right now. He said that is where the action will be in ten or fifteen more minutes and that the archers are in danger up here. I think he is right. You guys are sitting ducks for all those arrows. There must be twenty Dyke archers lying on the roof below that are testimony to that.”

“He wants us to move to the Grand Ballroom? I thought you guys were supposed to take care of the gang members using the service tunnels! Are the gangsters taking over the Grand Ballroom?” asked Lydia.

Jimbo slowly shook his head no.

“There won’t be any catering trucks moving through those two tunnels anytime soon unless they are equipped with four wheel drive transmissions. Both tunnels are packed with dead inmates every inch of the way. Francis is planning on doing something with the Grand Ballroom’s roof in the next few minutes, What he is planning to do he didn’t say because he didn’t have the time to explain. We need to move the surviving archers of the Dykes to the outer north hall of the Grand Ballroom and have them wait.”

“Wait for what?” asked Preacher Joe.

“I don’t think it will be a sign from God but knowing Francis, I am sure we will know about what he is up to when the time comes!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

Three arrows made of steel pipe flew through the hotel room, blasting through the hallway wall and beyond. Little Jimbo, who was standing more erect than he should have been, ducked down behind the stack of drywall and metal doors where Lydia, Sandra and Preacher Joe were crouching.

“Holy shit! Those projectiles are moving with some force! They would go completely through someone!” yelled Little Jimbo.

“So how soon do we need to get everyone to the Grand Ballroom?” asked Lydia.

“I think Francis wants it done as soon as possible!” answered Jimbo.

Preacher Joe shook his head.

“We have two thousand archers in the rooms on three floors. There are probably six hundred archers in the rooms next to the hallway you just came down. How many arrows did you see sticking in the north wall?”

Jimbo paused for a second, stroking his chin formulating an answer.

“Well, I didn’t pause to count each one Joe, but I reckon there were a couple of thousand!”

Jimbo locked eyes with Preacher Joe and gave him his annoyed look for stupid questions.

“That was just the arrows you saw sticking into the wall. And those were the arrows that found metal studs and backer plates in the wall. There have been thousands of arrows flying into all three floors since the assault started. It is lucky we haven’t lost a lot more archers,” said Preacher Joe softly.

“I know Francis pretty well Joe. We need to do something now and quit talking about it! The man usually blows up things he doesn’t like and I don’t think he likes what is happening on the Grand Ballroom roof. Look at FEMA camp 43! You guys can talk about it until the sun comes up but I am getting the hell out of here!”

The four scouts moved to the Hallway of Faith and stood in the stairwell at the end of the long deadly hall. While standing there all four could see many arrows blasting through the hallway which was easily two hundred feet in length. The hallway seemed to get longer with each passing second.

“So you said you just strolled down that hallway while all the arrows were blasting through it?  That must have taken a hell of a lot of faith,” said Lydia.

Little Jimbo shifted his body weight from one foot to the other while Lydia, Preacher Joe and Sandra looked at him intently. Finally, Jimbo confessed to what he had actually done.

“Well, not exactly Lydia. I crawled on my belly using my hands and knees as fast as I could! Look at the chair rail on both walls! All the arrows are blasting through the walls above both chair rails! The crazies are firing too high,” answered Little Jimbo.

At that moment just ten feet away from where the four scouts were standing two arrows breached the south wall one foot above the concrete and disappeared through the unfinished drywall on the north hallway. The two arrows would have had deadly consequences for anyone crawling on the floor.

“Uh huh. I think you were looking ahead not noticing the low ones Jimbo,” answered Preacher Joe.

“I need to borrow one of your Mac ten machine guns Joe. What we need is a distraction. I will go up two floors and run down the hallway shooting out the glass on the tenth floor. There aren’t any doors in place so I should be able to move fast. Sandra can go down to the sixth floor, Jimbo can go down to the seventh and you can go down this floor telling everyone to get out and to get out now if they want to live. Doing that, I think I can buy us some precious time, enough for everyone to get out to the east and west stairwells. I will meet you at the east stairwell landing on the sixth floor,” said Lydia.

Preacher Joe nodded his head yes.

“That might work. Here, take both of my Mac tens just in case. You won’t have to stay long in one place young lady. Just shoot out the glass and keep moving as fast as you can. The inmates will think we have added more archers and will move their machines which will take them some time. That may give us twenty seconds or longer,” said Preacher Joe.

“That doesn’t mean they won’t keep some of their machines aimed at these three floors!” exclaimed Sandra.

“No, but there will be a lot fewer arrows flying at these three floors. Let’s do it!” yelled Lydia.

Joe handed his two Mac ten guns to Lydia and she took off up the metal stairs climbing two steps at a time. Jimbo and Sandra zipped down the metal stairwell right after Lydia left leaving Preacher Joe alone in the deadly hallway.

While waiting for Lydia’s first gunshot Preacher Joe held the brass cross hanging on the chain around his neck with both hands, said a quick prayer and made the sign of the cross while watching dozens of arrows fly through the long hallway. For a brief moment, the man who had professed his faith in God had hesitation in his heart but while holding his cross his faith grew. For a long moment, everything that was happening before him seemed to be in slow motion. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of one of his Mac ten guns.

Preacher Joe reacted quickly, running to the second opening in the deadly hallway on his right.

“Get out now! Move to the west stairwell and go to the Grand Ballroom!” he yelled.

There were six Dyke archers cowered down in the room behind a small knee wall looking in the direction of the opening of where a glass wall once existed. Two of the women were in the act of firing their pneumatic bows.

The archers quickly reacted and exited the room, heading west to the near stairwell. As Joe moved to the next room in the dark hallway an arrow streaked one foot in front of his face as he heard several more shots from one of his Mac tens erupt from overhead.

Preacher Joe took a deep breath and continued to move down the hallway, stopping at each entrance door to get the archers moving in the right direction. At the halfway point he started to move the archers to the east stairwell. Performing his dangerous task, he heard more shots from his Mac tens. The additional shots confused him briefly. Lydia should have completed her run on the tenth floor a minute ago. He also noticed that fewer arrows were flying through the hallway he was traversing. Two minutes later he was standing on the east landing of the eight floor stairwell. His first instinct was to navigate down to the Grand Ballroom but for some reason he decided to wait. After one minute he heard the sound of footsteps pounding on the metal steps of the stairwell. Someone was going up instead of climbing down. Soon, Sandra was standing beside him, embracing him.

“There are a lot of dead and wounded foot soldiers in the lower rooms,” she said softly.

“The lower trajectory of the arrows might have caused that.  Where is Lydia? Maybe I took too long getting down to the eighth floor and I missed her!”

“I don’t think so. I hauled ass down and so did the archers with the wounded. We left our dead sisters in the rooms and I didn’t see Lydia coming down the stairwell! Besides, she would have waited for me!”

As Preacher Joe held Sandra he looked down the hallway he had just cleared and caught his breath. Standing at the opposite end stood Lydia, surveying the gauntlet before her.

“Go down to the Grand Ballroom and take the stairwell Lydia! You don’t need to come this way!”

Preacher Joe and Sandra could see Lydia shoulder her pneumatic bow and grab the brass crucifix key Joe had placed in her trust earlier in the week. She was holding the cross with both hands and proceeded to walk towards the two scouts. She wasn’t running.

“Go back Lydia!” yelled Sandra.

Lydia proceeded to casually stroll down the hallway.

“What is she trying to prove?” asked Sandra with a panicked voice.

Preacher Joe hesitated before answering.

“She is trying to prove to herself what every man and woman who have desired to be free have proved in the past. You have to possess a strong faith in a higher power to fight for freedom. She is doing it her way I guess.”

The two scouts were watching the young woman make her move when Little Jimbo joined them, out of breath. He turned to see what Preacher Joe and Sandra were watching. When he saw Lydia he made a move in her direction but Joe quickly grabbed his left arm.

“You can’t go in there Jimbo. You will be killed,” said Joe.

“What is wrong with that crazy woman? She will certainly take an arrow!”

While the three scouts watched many arrows shot through the pathway. A few of the arrows impaled into the north wall striking a backer plate mounted in the drywall but the majority of the projectiles fired completely through both walls. Lydia continued to stroll towards Joe, holding the brass crucifix in her hands with a look of contentment on her face. As she got closer to the three scouts they could see the look on her face was more of a smile.

After thirty more seconds she finally completed her journey. The White Widow had completed her walk through the Hallway of Faith unscathed.

“That is how you do it Little Jimbo,” she said softly.

Lydia had no sooner completed her sentence when Sandra collapsed, standing next to Preacher Joe. In the dark confines of the stairwell Joe noticed that his right arm, which was around Sandra’s waist, was wet. He caught his friend stopping her fall to the concrete floor and gently laid her to the rough surface.

Jimbo produced a small flashlight to illuminate Sandra’s body. That was when the three scouts saw her right arm was coated in blood.

“She’s been shot somewhere!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

Preacher Joe rolled Sandra to lie on the left side of her body and saw a wooden object approximately the size of a common pencil sticking completely through the upper part of her right arm.

“An arrow fragment got her! We are going to need a doctor!” he said loudly.

“What are we going to do? The medical clinic is a long way from here!” said Lydia.

“Let’s move her down to the fifth floor stairwell landing. Francis has a medical kit in his backpack and has had some training on field injuries! He will do something!” said Little Jimbo.

Preacher Joe moved Sandra into a sitting position but before lifting the young woman with his arms Lydia spoke.

“Joe, I need some clips for the Mac tens now!”

“Can’t it wait Lydia!” exclaimed Joe.

“No. Give me the clips in your ammo belt and then take care of Sandra!” she fired back.

Joe gave Lydia an angry look, unfastened one of his ammo belts from his torso and tossed the piece of leather to Lydia. The White Widow quickly fastened the ammo belt around her waist, then turned and started to climb the metal steps of the stairwell.

“What are you doing Lydia?” yelled Preacher Joe.

The young woman stopped and turned to face Joe and Little Jimbo. Little Jimbo had seen the look the woman had on her face before, only the look was the one he had seen many times on Amanda’s face.

“I have an appointment on the seventy seventh floor.”

Then she took off climbing the metal steps two at a time.

Preacher Joe lifted Sandra in his arms while Little Jimbo grabbed her weapons off the floor. Sandra was now unconscious and moaning occasionally.

“She has lost some blood! Let’s get moving Jimbo!”

The two male scouts started the climb down to the fifth floor. While starting their descent both men could hear Lydia’s pounding footsteps on the metal stairs. The young woman was moving fast.

* * * * *

Chapter Nineteen

Commander Wiley, Commander Trevor

Trevor and Ringo were standing on the steel mesh walkway on the southwest corner of the massive steel wall that protected the Fontainebleau Tower. Trevor had a commanding view of the Las Vegas Strip to the south and what he saw sent shivers down his spine. Below on the wide street was an assemblage of gang members that ran a mile to the south. There were thousands of torches carried by the inmates offering an eerie light on the crowd and the reflective glass on the nearby casino towers. Close to the intersection of the Strip and the access road running east and west on the south side of the Fontainebleau Tower were five large, crudely built, slow moving towers that rose fifty to sixty feet into the air. The towers were mounted on large wooden platforms carried by four rusty metal wheels and all of the towers were being moved by thousands of men pulling on several long cables that were fastened to the structures.

“Good God! What I see on the street looks like one of those old movies I have seen, like Ben Hur and that movie, uh, uh…Troy!” he exclaimed.

Ringo turned to look down at the nervous young man. The half breed towered over the young man from Florida. Ringo, although he didn’t project the image, was a highly educated young man. Ringo was not the type of man that would get easily panicked.

“Yes, they do remind me of some of the old movies about the Romans. I don’t see many men down there that resemble Brad Pitt however.”

“Yeah, he was in that movie! What the hell are those towers?”

“Those are known as siege towers. Apparently, the gangs have found a book about Roman culture. That apparatus was very effective at breaching walls in ancient times. The Romans incurred massive casualties when implementing such a device but that was one thing they could afford to lose.”

“What do you mean Ringo?” asked Trevor.

“The Romans didn’t care how many of their soldiers were killed to move the towers in place.”

“Oh, I see. What the hell is that thing down the street that looks like a big dick?” asked Trevor peering over the steel wall.

Ringo took a long look at the object slowly moving down the street behind the five siege towers.

“That, my friend, is a battering ram. A large battering ram I might add. They are planning on using that device to knock a large hole in our steel wall at street level. That will happen directly below where we are standing if they are successful.”

“It’s not moving very fast! Do you think it will work?”

“The inmates certainly have the numbers on their side. There must be more than a hundred thousand men on the street below.”

“I dunno’ Ringo. That big dick is moving pretty slow!”

“It doesn’t have to move fast. The battering ram is at least one hundred feet in length and there are two to three hundred men surrounding the device to move it. That is a lot of concentrated power to one focal point at the end of the battering ram. The steel wall below us is not real sturdy. If you extrapolate the force of inertia squared to the target surface of the impact the ram will easily knock a hole in the steel wall.”

“I don’t understand what you just said Ringo but what are we gonna’ do to stop it?”

Ringo flashed his set of perfectly white teeth and let a slight grin creep across his face. He pulled out two small black objects from his inner vest pocket that were twelve inches in length.

“We are gonna’ introduce them to two gifts that were given to me by one of my good friends known as the Pale Rider.”

“That girl is into pipe bombs! Are those little pipes big enough to stop that thing?”

“I hope so. Amanda told me to throw one of these pipes directly at the front of the battering ram and to duck. There are not many places to duck behind up here. It certainly has me worried. I have seen the Pale Rider use her explosives before. She has a bad habit of over compensating.”

A young blonde haired woman scurried up to Trevor on the wide mesh walkway.

“Sir, I have a thousand of my foot soldiers in place behind the steel wall at street level and another thousand up here on the wall. This space is confining. We have only forty feet of wall to work off of here on the south corner. On the west walkway we have plenty of space to work with but the enemy is coming from the south so we won’t be able to target any men that effectively. Do you have any suggestions sir?” asked the gorgeous blonde.

“Sir?” asked Trevor.

Ringo was listening to the verbal exchange and had a grin on his handsome face.

“Yes sir! Your leader of the scouts instructed me to follow any orders you might have!”

“Who was that?” asked Trevor nervously.

“Commander Wiley! He told me you had a lot experience when it came to battles like this! He said you were at the Battle of Arlington! Every one knows about the Battle of Arlington, sir!”

Trevor looked at Ringo and then grinned. Ringo just nodded his head.

“What is your name Captain?” asked Trevor.

“Ashley, sir!”

“Drop the sir Ashley. How many archers do you think we can squeeze on this catwalk without getting in each other’s way?”

The young blonde surveyed the catwalk for a few moments. From below the ominous sound of beating trash lids and clubs struck on metal objects started up, along with the ominous chants of thousands of voices.

“I would say no more than fifty…uh, uh”

“The name is Trevor. My friends and soldiers just call me Trev.”

“I would say no more than fifty archers Commander Trev. From the looks of what is below that would include fifty large boxes of ammo for each archer. There are a lot of men to kill.”

Trevor looked over the wall to the street and sighed.

“Okay Ashley! Get the boxes of ammo up here on this catwalk and get fifty of your best archers up here now! There will also be thirty men up here with rifles so it will be crowded but I think we will find a way to work together as a unit. When you get things ready come back here and stay close to me! We will need to keep our lines of communication operating at an efficient level and there is nothing better than one on one verbal communication. I like to keep my leaders close to me when there is action!”

“Yes sir! I like that. I will return shortly Commander Trev.”

The young woman turned and walked down the catwalk.

Trevor turned to face Ringo.

“How did that sound?”

“Not too bad Commander Trev. You need to steady your voice and keep it from going up an octave but other than that you sounded like someone who has commanded in a confrontation before. Since you are the commander and you just assumed command of my twenty nine scouts, not including me, what is it that you want to do, commander?” asked Ringo.

Trevor was relieved to see that the muscular and intelligent half breed was smiling.

“I thought that with twenty nine, thirty snipers and fifty good archers we could at least pick off the men moving that big dick object on the street below to slow them down a bit. That will at least give the Night Ranger and the Reaper Crew time to set up their defenses on the Grand Ballroom roof.”

Ringo peered at the parking garage roof to his left that was four to five hundred yards away from his position. He could see the arrows and rocks flying through the air framed by the torch and moonlight in the area.

“I reckon that plan is as good as any. The Night Ranger and her crew already have their hands full.”

“I hope Francis and Amanda can stop the attack that is planned in those two service tunnels,” replied Trevor.

“You don’t need to be worried about those two scouts young man. They will find a way. You need to stay focused on what is about to happen here. We are in trouble.”

“Why?”

“Too many crazy half breeds on the street below. At least the insane white men from the airport haven’t joined them. I don’t see any white men in the crowd below. I guess they can’t get over their racial hatred.”

Trevor looked on the approaching crowd.

“Yeah, I think you are right Ringo. The only crazy white man I see around here is me and the scouts in your outfit.”

“You better quit complementing yourself and get the twenty nine scouts up here on this catwalk Commander Trev. They are waiting below us for you’re…uh, command.”

Trevor leaned over the rail to see the Free America scouts watching the hustle and bustle of the female Dyke members. A majority of the female foot soldiers were dressed in tight fitting black body suits while others were dressed in tight shorts and tee shirts. The male scouts from Free America appeared to be in no hurry. They were sitting on a concrete knee wall with their rifles in their hands, watching.

“I think we should split the numbers Ringo. Why don’t we leave fifteen of the scouts down on the street with the AK47s just in case there is a breach in the wall and bring fourteen of them up here to snipe?  What do you think?”

“That sounds good to me Commander Trev!”

“Come on Ringo! Quit calling me commander!”

“Whatever you order…Trev,” said Ringo with a smile.

The new scout scurried down the narrow metal stairs to retrieve fourteen of the Free America scouts and to inform the remainder of what the plan was.

One minute later Trevor returned and the Free America scouts took up their positions on the mesh catwalk. Ashley quickly followed with fifty of her female archers. Each of the women was carrying a rectangular cardboard box and leaned each box against the metal wall at where they decided to stand to fire their pneumatic bows. The young women were sizing up the young male scouts from Free America and they in turn were eyeing them back.  Ashley slung her box down to the mesh walkway beside Trevor and stood beside him.

“We are as ready as we ever will be Commander Trev. Is this close enough to maintain communications?” asked the gorgeous blonde while moving to stand next to Trevor.

“That will do just fine Ashley. Tell your archers to target the men pushing the object that looks like a big di… uh, uh,” he stammered.

“Tell your archers to target the oblong object bringing up the rear of the towers Ashley. Tell them to wait until the towers have passed this corner and to make each arrow count. When one of the male inmates fall pushing along the oblong object and is replaced by another, target him. And tell them to concentrate their firepower on the men at the front of the oblong object,” interjected Ringo.

“Yeah, that was what I wanted to say,” added Trevor.

“I will be right back Commander Trev,” said Ashley. Then the young captain went to speak with each of her archers positioned on the mesh walkway.

“Thanks Ringo,” said Trevor with a sigh.

“No problem Trevor. You are doing fine.”

Once the fifth tower cleared the intersection all hell started to break loose on the Grand Ballroom’s roof.

Ringo glanced to his left to view the struggle.

“Lynn and the girls have engaged the enemy Trevor. It is time for us to wade in.”

Trevor stood up and spoke loudly.

“Fire at will and make each shot count. Kill the men at the front on each side of the oblong object!”

Trevor crouched back down and peered above the steel wall through his AK47’s scope. He could see a hail of aluminum arrows obliterating the inmates pushing along the battering ram on the Strip below. The Free America scouts opened up with their AK47s using their scopes and began to kill the men pushing along the threatening object. Trevor could see inmates falling to the ground on each side of the crude weapon made of steel, some clutching their chests and others clutching a sleek arrow sticking through their chest or neck.

As one inmate would fall to the Strip dead because of an arrow or bullet, two inmates would drag his body off while another gang member took the fallen inmate’s place. While watching for twenty seconds Trevor viewed hundreds of gang members getting killed while the battering ram continued to slowly inch forward. It was a massacre on the Strip.

“Damn Ringo! We are killing hundreds of gang members and the thing keeps moving towards us!”

Ringo lowered his AK47 and turned to face Trevor.

“We are making a dent in their effort, although a small one. The next two hundred feet are going to cost them dearly. The archers are firing as fast as one of my scouts with an automatic weapon. I am most impressed, The female archers are killing a lot of men.”

Then Ringo lifted his assault weapon and continued to fire.

Trevor continued to use the scope on his assault rifle to view what was happening below. Then he felt a tap on his right shoulder.

“Commander Trev, my archers will need more arrows soon! I will be back in a couple of minutes,” said Ashley.

“Uh, sure Ashley.”

Ashley scooted down the narrow metal steps to the walkway. While she was gone an onslaught of large rocks started to rain down on the archers and Free America scouts from high above.

“Target the catapults on the sidewalks below!” yelled Ringo to his scouts.

Trevor moved his scope to view small wooden devices on each side of the Las Vegas Strip stationed on the concrete sidewalks. The wooden sleds were ten feet in length and four feet in width. On the surface of each sled was an arm fashioned in the shape of a spoon. Behind the devices were men pulling carts loaded with rocks the size of an ordinary baseball. Once the scoop was fired and lowered back into place several men would start loading the scoop with rocks while three men would start operating a crank mounted on the catapult tightening a hemp rope.

Trevor fired his AK47 and killed every man operating one of the catapults. He had counted seven kills. He watched through his scope as seven men replaced the men he had just killed.

“Fuck the men operating the catapults! Shoot the ropes on each device!” yelled Trevor.

The new scout opened up with his AK47 on the device where he had just killed the seven men. Trevor shredded the coiled rope mounted on the catapult using six shots. The inmates surrounding the damaged catapult quickly moved to another.

“Good call Trevor! Fire on the catapult’s rope and forget the men!” yelled Ringo.

At that moment Ashley returned with a large cardboard box full of aluminum arrows resting on her left shoulder. As she exited the stairs to the catwalk Trevor turned to see a wall of fist sized rocks rapidly moving through the night sky in her direction. Trevor moved to tackle the young woman. As he impacted Ashley’s body a rock the size of baseball hit him squarely on the back of his head. The young scout was violently knocked to the surface of the mesh catwalk and blood started to ooze out of Trevor’s head. He was prone on the mesh walkway face down, not moving.

Ringo had turned his head to see what had happened.

Ashley, who was lying flat on her back, sat up quickly and saw Trevor.

“Medic! Medic!” she screamed loudly.

Three women rushed up the narrow stairs to the catwalk with a collapsible stretcher and began to work frantically on Trevor.

Ringo turned and continued to fire his assault weapon at the men operating the catapults. After several minutes the numerous catapults on the sidewalks were disabled. When Ringo turned to see what was happening with Trevor, the young scout and the three female medics were gone. Ashley had returned to her station and was firing her pneumatic bow rapidly at the crowd below.

Ringo looked down to see how far the battering ram had progressed. He could see thousands of dead and dying bodies on the Las Vegas Strip marking the path the battering ram had taken. Still, the indestructible object was making progress. Now the ancient weapon was less than fifty feet away from the steel wall of the Fontainebleau.

Ringo figured that was close enough. He had lobbed explosives before many times.

“Ashley, tell everyone to get down!” he yelled.

Ashley moved to the rear rail and warned everyone on the catwalk and the street below.

Ringo took one of Amanda’s pipe bombs out of his inner vest pocket and pushed the red button mounted on the side of the black pipe. He stood up and threw the pipe bomb without putting any arc in his throw.

As he ducked down behind the steel wall he heard three massive blasts from his left. The three explosions were so loud he wasn’t sure if the pipe bomb he had just delivered even exploded.

“Francis!” he muttered softly while ducking his head.

* * * * *

Chapter Twenty

Francis the Party Pooper

Francis stepped into the metal air conditioning unit where Lynn, Calamity Jane and the Black Widow were anxiously waiting to start using their chain guns.

A massive human wave of gang members was moving across the roof of the Grand Ballroom in their direction. The advancing inmates were using wood panels, sheets of thin metal and anything else they could find to hold in front of their bodies for protection. They were beating on the shields with their metal and wood clubs and chanting as they moved.

Amanda peered through a peephole and reported to the scouts in the small chamber at the ready with their guns.

“The shit heads are one hundred yards away Francis! We need to start cutting them down! They are getting too close for me!”

Francis peeked through a separate hole in the metal wall and stepped back.

“Go ahead and fire away. All three of you should be able to kill several of those dumb asses with one bullet. There must be twenty or thirty men deep standing shoulder to shoulder. After those ammo drums are spent don’t waste any time and grab your chain guns to get the hell out of here.  I want all three of you to head to the stairwell. Wiley has already moved all of your stuff inside. When I tell you to get moving that is exactly what I want you to do.”

The three female scouts with the three chain guns didn’t need to be told twice. They opened up with the rapid fire guns once Francis had concluded his instructions.

When the loud guns started to fire Amanda picked up a small pipe bomb that was lying on the floor beside her. She moved to stand behind the metal box outside and next to Wiley.

“What does that pipe bomb do?” asked Wiley loudly to overcome the roar of the three chain guns.

“It is one of my bad boys. I brought it to use in case something goes wrong. I don’t intend on being raped by ten thousand crazy mother fuckers. This pipe bomb is what I call insurance.”

“I see. I don’t think it makes any difference to those crazies whether you are a man or a woman. I am glad that you have that pipe bomb.”

The chain guns continued their deadly chatter. Wiley peeked around the corner of the metal building to see hundreds of men falling to the surface of the rooftop, not moving. The wide wave of men, however, continues to advance on the scout’s position.

“Those gangsters are finding out the hard way those big bullets from the Big X guns are hard to stop. The bullets are ripping through several bodies with one shot! Those fuckers are falling everywhere!” exclaimed Wiley.

“I imagine so. I am moving to the stairwell to wait. Don’t fuck up Wiley. Just do what Francis tells you to do and you will be okay.”

The Pale Rider walked quickly to the double doors and stood beside the right door to make sure it was easily accessible. Wiley could clearly see the expression on her face and all he could find in a word to describe it was…cold.

Wiley continued to watch the inmates on the roof fall in droves until suddenly there was silence. He turned to see Lynn, Jane and Emily scoot across the thirty feet of roof to the steel double doors while reloading the Big X chain guns with replacement drums. Francis was the last to step out of the air conditioning unit. The leader of the Reaper crew had one of his thin cigars held in his lips. He leaned around the right side of the metal building then turned back to face Wiley while blowing a smoke ring into the air.

“Relax Wiley! They ain’t close enough yet! They ain’t even moving in our direction right now! The girls cut them to pieces and right now they don’t know what to do or what is going on but once they don’t hear those chain guns firing off this time the shit heads won’t be walking across the roof. They will be charging at us as fast as their little legs can carry them!”

“Just tell me when to throw Francis! Just press the red button and throw this pipe as far as I can throw it left of center! Right? Right?”

“You got it. We are gonna’ wait until the crazies are hundred or so feet away and then we will chuck these suckers right into the crowd. After you throw the pipe bomb haul ass into the stairwell. Simple, if you don’t trip over your own feet.”

“Yeah, simple,” replied Wiley softly.

One long minute passed while the two men watched the assemblage of gang members. Most of the men were crouched down behind the piles of dead bodies on the Grand Ballroom roof.

“A big crowd is starting to gather Francis! They will have to climb over big piles of bodies before they can take a run at us!”

“Yep. We ain’t gonna’ wait for the congregation to get much stronger Wiley. I don’t feel like wasting any of my ammo on a couple of fast gangsters. When the first one climbs over the nearest pile of bodies is when we will chuck these bombs. There is plenty of weight on this roof now.”

“Here they come, Francis!”

“Throw Wiley!” yelled Francis.

Wiley took two steps and threw his pipe bomb into the night sky with a high arc. His throw was one that any quarterback in the National Football League would have been proud to say was his. Wiley didn’t bother to watch his pipe bomb land. Once the pipe left his hand he quickly turned to run to the double doors thirty feet away. He turned his head slightly to see Francis throw his first pipe bomb and then quickly throw Amanda’s, both with high arcs.

Wiley arrived at the double doors within seconds and grabbed one of the door handles to keep from sliding across the floor. He quickly turned to watch in amazement and anxiety as Francis calmly strolled across the thirty feet of rooftop. Francis was in no hurry. Behind Francis less than a hundred and fifty feet away was a wave of crazed inmates closing in by the time he walked through the exit to the roof. As Francis arrived at the doors he turned and bolted both at the top and the bottom. Inside the stairwell flattened against the near concrete firewall were Amanda, Lynn, Jane and Emily. Sandra was lying on the floor flat on her back with Preacher Joe cradling her head and Jimbo was sitting on the concrete floor beside her.

All of the scouts could hear Francis counting out loud.

“Nine…ten…eleven…twelve. Boom! Cover your ears everyone!”

Instantly, after Francis completed his warning, a massive explosion could be heard on the other side of the steel double doors. The concussion from the explosion vibrated the stairwell leaving everyone inside to wonder if the tall tower was going to stand in one piece or come crashing down on top of everyone. The sound of BB’s peppered the two doors loudly. Everyone hit the floor to get low, except for Francis. He moved to one corner of the stairwell and blew a perfect ring of smoke as he leaned against one of the walls. The sound of the explosion seemed to last for many seconds, echoing through the empty hallways of the Fontainebleau. Then there was an eerie silence. Francis was the first to speak.

“What happened to Sandra?” he asked calmly.

“She has a wood fragment the size of a pencil in her upper right arm. She has lost some blood,” answered Preacher Joe while stroking the foot soldier’s forehead.

“Give me some light Jimbo!” ordered Francis.

Jimbo retrieved his small flashlight in his right jacket pocket and turned it on.

“What the hell is wrong with you Jimbo?” asked Francis looking at Little Jimbo.

“Nothing! It’s Sandra who has a problem!” responded Little Jimbo.

“What is all that blood on your left leg?”

“What?” exclaimed Amanda crawling quickly to Jimbo on her hands and knees.

“There is a small pool of blood on the floor where he has been sitting!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

“Lay on your right side Jimbo!” ordered Amanda.

The Pale Rider took the small flash light out of Jimbo’s hand and started to shine the beam on his leg and lower body. Finally, she located the source of the blood.

“Oh my God! He has a wood fragment stuck in his lower calf! It went through his leathers!” exclaimed Amanda.

Francis moved to look at both of the injured scouts.

“Leave the objects alone and don’t pull them out for now! I need to work on Sandra first! Janie, get my first aid kit out of Lynn’s backpack while I cut away Sandra’s shirtsleeve.”

“Emily, would you please support Sandra’s head for me?” asked Preacher Joe politely.

Emily moved to place Sandra’s head on her legs. Joe stood up and immediately headed for the stairwell.

“Where are you headed off to Joe?” asked Lynn.

“I am late for an appointment on the top floor. I will be gone for a little while. Take care of Sandra for me Francis. She means a lot to me.”

Then Preacher Joe started to run up the metal steps, three at a time in the dark.

While cutting away Sandra’s shirtsleeve Francis spoke without looking up.

“What’s going on with Preacher Joe, Jimbo?”

Amanda was supporting Jimbo’s head in her lap. The scout was lying on his side on the concrete floor but he seemed to be enjoying the attention from the Pale Rider, who was stroking the thick hair on his head and wiping the dust off his forehead with one her Free America handkerchiefs. The Pale Rider had a look of worry on her pretty face. She had lost a riding partner once a long time ago and she was worried about losing another.

“Lydia said she had an appointment too, on the seventy seventh floor, so she took off up the stairwell while we toted Sandra down here to get some medical attention from you. What the hell is all that sound going on outside that I hear? It almost sounds like…glass breaking.”

“It is glass breaking Little Jimbo. I would say seventy seven floors of glass breaking just outside those double doors. That’s what happens when you set off a ten pound Semtex bomb next to a tower covered with glass panels. Hold the light on her arm Emily while I work on Sandra. It looks like the wood fragment didn’t hit any bone or any big artery. I think she will be okay after some cleaning, disinfecting and stitching,” said Francis.

For a moment there was no verbal communication among the scouts as they listened to the sounds of glass panels falling to the roof on the other side of the double steel doors. The sound was strange and loud.

“That sounds like a lot of glass breaking outside. Janie, we need to call the dog pack to this landing and put their booties on so Francis won’t be stitching up any paws tonight,” said Lynn.

The Night Ranger placed a special silver whistle to her lips and blew on it for three seconds and then briefly twice. The whistle made no sound that could be heard by human ears. The six dogs, who had been waiting as ordered on the fourth floor, charged up the stairwell and stopped next to Lynn. All six dogs sat down.

Wiley walked over with six dog biscuits in his hand and followed protocol giving them their rewards. All six dogs wolfed down the treats.

“I think they are getting hungry. We haven’t fed them for four or five hours,” said Wiley.

“They will be okay for now. Thanks Wiley,” said Lynn.

While Lynn and Jane placed the leather boots on each paw of the six dogs Francis worked on Sandra’s arm efficiently and quickly. When he yanked the wood shaft out of her arm Sandra woke up and yelled.

“Oww!”

“Lie still woman! I need to disinfect your wound, stitch you up and bandage your arm. Does anyone have a pain pill handy?” asked Francis while maintaining his focus on Sandra’s arm.

“There is one in my shirt pocket that Doc gave me a couple of days ago,” replied Sandra weakly.

Francis laughed softly.

“That should be a good one then. I have a local I will give you in your arm and you can take Doc’s pill. You will be feeling better in a minute or two.”

“At least I don’t hear anyone pounding on the doors!” said Wiley.

Several of the scouts laughed at Wiley’s comment.

“What did I say that was so funny?” asked Wiley.

“You are keeping everyone entertained Wiley! Do you think he can open the doors Francis?” asked Little Jimbo.

“I don’t see why not. I don’t hear any more falling glass. There you go Sandra. You are going to be sore as hell during the next few days but all you will have is a small scar. We will disinfect and change your bandage in four hours. You are next Jimbo. Cut away part of his riding leathers Amanda.”

Francis stood up and walked over to where Wiley was standing by the double doors.

Lynn spoke loudly.

“Jungen…stay!” she exclaimed, pointing at the six dogs.

Francis looked at his wife and nodded his head. Then he turned to Wiley.

“It might take both of us to open this door.”

Francis hit the emergency handle mounted on the door and pushed. The door opened about six inches and then hit something that emitted a scraping sound.

Wiley peered out of the opening to see what he could see in the moonlight.

“Holy shit! There is a six foot high pile of glass behind that door! Try the other door Francis! It looks pretty clear of debris!”

Francis hit the emergency handle on the second door and it opened to ninety degrees before any glass was encountered.

Lynn and Jane stood up to look over Francis’s shoulder.

“Good Lord! Is that…glass?” asked Lynn.

On the thirty feet of roof between the double doors and the metal air conditioning box, which was now a twisted mass of metal, was shattered pieces of glass. In some parts of the roof the glass was a jumbled mass with piles as high as fifteen feet. There was blood splattered on all of the glass and body parts lying against the concrete wall where arrows once struck. It was a scene out of a horror movie. Francis turned and spoke to his scouts.

“Hold on just a second Jimbo and I will take care of you. There is something I see that I need.”

Then Francis and Wiley stepped outside the doors and climbed up on a four foot high pile of glass. In the mass of blood splattered glass and mangled bodies of men Wiley saw what Francis was after.

“What a mess! It kind of reminds me of Arlington! There is a lot of blood and torn up pieces of bodies everywhere! Those BB’s and tacks of Amanda’s tore the shit out of everyone on this roof!” exclaimed Wiley.

“Yeah, they seemed to do the job well. Do you want to get what I see or do you want me to stroll over there and get it?”

“Why don’t you get back in there and start working on Jimbo? I can get what you want.”

“Don’t get cut up. I don’t like stitching up people, horses or dogs. Just be careful where you step and test the glass before putting your weight on it. And don’t fall into the hole where the roof once was,” said Francis.

“It will only take me a couple of minutes,” replied Wiley.

Francis returned to the stairwell and began to work on Jimbo’s leg.

Lynn and Jane watched Wiley climb on the glass and they too, saw what he was after.

“What is that greenhorn son of a bitch up to Francis? With all that glass out there you might be stitching his ass up for hours!” exclaimed Amanda.

“You need to lighten up on Wiley. He is an okay guy. Just because he is trying to be funny and comes across as being a wise ass is no reason to treat him the way you have been treating him. Good lord, a person could say the same thing about the man you ride with if you didn’t know him.”

Francis yanked the broken piece of arrow out of Jimbo’s leg, causing him to howl with pain and his body to shake. The howl made Amanda jump with alarm. Then Jimbo started to laugh.

“It didn’t hurt baby. I was just funning with you!” said Jimbo.

Francis paused and locked eyes with the Pale Rider.

“See what I mean?” he asked.

Francis’s question got all the scouts that were present laughing. Even Sandra started to giggle. Finally Amanda joined in.

“You better watch it Jimbo! That wasn’t funny! I might shoot your ass right after I shoot Wiley!”

“Did someone mention my name?” asked Wiley sticking his head into the room while standing behind the open door to the roof.

Francis asked Wiley a question while he continued to work on Jimbo’s leg.

“Did you get the thing I was after Wiley?”

“I sure did. That was one slippery walk but I managed to cover the distance and get back without falling on my ass.”

The new scout stepped into the stairwell and in the dim light of the small flashlight which was being used primarily on Little Jimbo’s leg he held up a tattered and bloody Free America flag. It was the Pale Rider’s coveted flag.

“It has about a hundred small holes through it and a few small rips but the flag is in pretty good shape considering what it just went through. The flag pole is kaput though,”

Wiley handed the blood splattered flag to Amanda. She held the flag in her hands for a few moments and then began to fold it up.

“Thanks Wiley. I appreciate that but the next time you hand me a flag that is soaking wet with blood I might have to think a few minutes before I decide to shoot you,” she said, placing the flag off to the side.

Everyone laughed for a few seconds because of Amanda’s comment but the laughter was cut short. The sound of drumbeats and chants started to drift into the stairwell.

“Sounds like the natives are still restless,” said Emily.

“You would think after the ass kicking they just received they would be headed back to their damn clubhouse!” said Little Jimbo.

“There are too many of them. This fight is far from over. There you go Jimbo. We will have to change your bandage in four hours and disinfect the wound but you are good to go. You should be able to limp along for a few days.”

“So, what is plan B baby?” asked Lynn.

Francis stood up and lit one of his trademark thin cigars. He stood still and took a deep breath. After several seconds he finally blew a perfect smoke ring into the stairwell air before speaking.

“I have a plan B Lynn, but it is not a good plan B. Why don’t we go to the southwest corner and check up on Ringo, Trevor and the scouts for now? It will give me some time to think more about plan B.”

Lynn looked down the shattered hallway of the fifth floor. Layers of glass were lying everywhere.

“Why don’t we go up one floor? There is a lot of glass in the way from your explosion and I don’t want anyone slipping and falling on any razor sharp glass fragments, especially the babies.”

“Do you think you can climb a flight of stairs Jimbo? What about you Sandra?” asked Francis.

Both Free America scouts nodded their heads yes. At that moment, the scouts could hear someone moving up the metal stairs quickly. Soon, Connie with a C was standing before the battered group.

“I need to speak with Commander Wiley!” she exclaimed, slightly out of breath.

Everyone turned to look at Wiley who was standing by the double steel doors next to Francis. Wiley started to shift his weight from foot to foot and had a guilty look on his face.

Amanda, Lynn, Calamity Jane and Emily had looks of evil mischief on their faces. Jimbo had a big grin on his.

“Hello young lady. Commander Wiley is standing over there,” replied Amanda, pointing at Wiley.

“Yes. I am sorry. I didn’t see him in the dark shadows! Commander Wiley, we have killed the survivors who fell through the Grand Ballroom roof! What is our next assignment?” asked the young Dyke foot soldier, moving to stand in front of Wiley at attention.

“Yes, Commander Wiley! Want do you want us to do next?” asked Lynn, playing along with the tease.

Wiley was, by any definition, starting to act very nervous while the experienced scouts continued to glare at him, except for Francis and Jimbo.

Francis continued to blow smoke rings in the air while Jimbo relaxed, placing his head back in Amanda’s lap and staring at the ceiling of the sixth floor’s landing. Jimbo had a big grin on his face however.

Wiley quickly regained his composure and answered.

“Are you assuming the command of Konnie with a K?”

“Yes sir! I am for now!”

Wiley fidgeted with his belt and moved his black broad brim hat back on his head.

“Excuse me for a second Connie, I need to consult with my sub Commander for a brief moment.”

“Yes. I think you should consult with sub Commander Francis,” echoed the Pale Rider, raising the tension in the air.

Wiley turned to where he was face to face with Francis. He spoke in a whisper.

“Help me out here old friend!” he pleaded quietly.

Francis locked eyes with Wiley and let his cruel, riverboat gambler grin creep across his face.

“Help you with what, old friend?”

Wiley turned back and forth while stroking his chin.

“Come on Francis! What should the Dyke archers do next?”

Francis blew another smoke ring into the air. Finally he answered.

“Don’t ask me Wiley. You are the Commander. You probably should ask the Night Ranger on what to do next. Don’t drag me into this.”

Wiley turned and spoke to Connie.

“Just a second Connie. I need to consult with my head tactical officer.”

Now Emily and Calamity Jane were starting to giggle softly.

Wiley sauntered over to stand in front of Lynn, who was standing at the entrance to the fifth floor hallway.

“Uh, Lynn, Francis told me to ask you.”

“He did? Well, sure, since I am head tactical officer of this outfit. What do you want to know?” said Lynn loudly.

“Shssh! Not so loud Lynn. What should I tell the archers to do next?” he hissed.

Lynn paused for a moment looking at Francis who was staring straight ahead and then glanced at the Pale Rider who nodded her head. Then she leaned forward to whisper in Wiley’s right ear.

“Do you just want to fuck Connie with a C or do you want to fuck them all?” she asked with a straight face.

Wiley at that moment knew he was in deep shit. He whirled around and walked back to stand in front of Francis.

“Lynn didn’t have an answer.”

“The head tactical officer didn’t have an answer. That certainly doesn’t sound like the Night Ranger! She always seems to have an answer!  That is not good,” answered Francis.

“Well, she had a suggestion but I thought I would keep it confidential.”

Francis blew another smoke ring into the air and looked at his wife, who nodded her head yes.

“Tell Connie with a C to keep the archers in the Grand Ballroom to kill anyone coming over the wall using ropes for now. We need to protect that big pit from any further incursions Commander Wiley,” whispered Francis.

Wiley turned and relayed the order to Connie, who took off down the stairs.

There was utter silence in the stairwell landing and grins on every scout’s face.

“I reckon we better get up the stairs,” said Francis.

Wiley instantly hustled up the flight of stairs, leaving everyone behind. The six dogs quickly ran up the stairs following Wiley. The scouts on the fifth floor landing helped Sandra and Little Jimbo to their feet to make the short climb.

“Damn Lynn! What did you whisper to Commander Wiley to get him so rattled?” asked Amanda.

“Nothing in particular,” replied Lynn.

“I heard what you whispered to him! I was standing right beside him! It was nothing in particular, it was good, real good!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

“Come on Lynn! Tell us what you told Commander Wiley as the head tactical officer!” said Little Jimbo.

“No! It was classified!” teased the Night Ranger.

“Tell us Janie!” said Amanda.

Janie looked at Francis who shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t have a clue what his wife had said to Wiley. Janie took his shrug as a yes.

“Lynn asked him if he just wanted to fuck Connie with a C or fuck the whole archer battalion!”

The scouts started to laugh heartily, including Francis.

As the group started to limp up the flight of stairs, Francis and Lynn brought up the rear. Francis stopped at the first step and looked into his young wife’s face.

“When this is over, we need to have a tactical meeting,” he said.

Francis’s comment caused more laughter to echo in the stairwell.

Lynn laughed.

“That is gonna’ be one long meeting!”

* * * * *

Chapter Twenty One

Old Men Play Rough

Wiley was on the sixth floor landing with the six dogs sitting at attention waiting for the banged up Reaper Crew to climb the thirty two metal steps in the stairwell. Little Jimbo had no problem with mobility with his injured leg. The experienced scout was as tough as nails. It was Sandra who was having a problem because of her loss of blood. Amanda and Lynn were supporting her while mounting each step and both female scouts were worried.

“We need to get Sandra to the infirmary as soon as we can Francis! She needs some transfusions!” exclaimed the Night Ranger.

Francis nodded his head yes.

“Which way is the shortest route Sandra?” was all the man in black said.

Sandra lifted her head to focus on the Reaper’s handsome face. She was putting up a gallant fight to keep conscious.

“Down this hallway and then down to the ground. The infirmary is on the bottom floor in the southwest corner of the Fontainebleau.”

Lynn looked down the sixth floor passageway.

“There is not too much glass! That is where we need to be going!”

Lynn pointed in the direction of the floor and issued a command.

“Jungen!  Geh!”

The dog pack took off to the west, stopping on occasion to look in doorways to the north. There was nothing to see to the south but an open area to the dark of night.

“That was the German word for go! Right?” asked Wiley.

“You finally got something right Commander Wiley!” exclaimed Calamity Jane who knew the German language because of her three dogs.

Amanda and Lynn, supporting Sandra, moved into the hallway followed by the remaining members of the Reaper Crew. The last to enter was Wiley and Francis. Before heading west Wiley grabbed Francis’s right arm and stopped.

Francis at first, looked at Wiley’s hand on his right arm and then at Wiley’s face.

“If you need to speak with me in the future Wiley, just say something. But don’t touch me again like that. The only one who can put her hands on me is the Night Ranger. Grabbing me like that again might get you killed, shot by the Night Ranger or bitten by two German Shepherds. Are we clear on that?”

Wiley quickly removed his hand from Francis’s arm.

“I am sorry Francis! I am just desperate right now! Are the girls mad at me for telling the Dykes I was a commander?”

Francis chuckled.

“No, if they were mad you would be dead by now. Amused, no, that doesn’t fit either. I think they might be playing the role of a patient but stern mother attempting to help their little boy grow up to be a man. You know, Wiley, the female scouts understand that you and Trevor have been isolated at Hoover Dam for the past year and all of them can tell because of your behavior that you are a whore hound but there are more important things in life right now than pussy. These girls, the female scouts and the Dykes, are full blown fighters. That is where most of them are ahead of you. They know where pussy ranks when it comes to the important things in life. You might find that out after this night is over if you don’t get killed trying to play the big man. If you play your cards right, who knows? You might get lucky and wind up with a gorgeous woman who knows what is important in life and knows how to take care of her man, like me and Little Jimbo.”

“I was just funning with the Dykes!”

“Do you call what has been happening since we arrived in this shit hole fun?”

Wiley shook his head no.

“We have not been having any fun Wiley.”

“I have been scared shitless several times today.”

Francis paused and placed his right hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“We all are a little worried but every Free America scout is trying to figure out a way for all of us to get out of here in one piece. All the Free America scouts know that having a good time will be one of the rewards when the time comes. Try to put pussy on the back burner of life and concentrate on getting our asses out of this jam…Commander Wiley.”

Then Francis motioned with his left hand for Wiley to lead the way. The new scout ambled ahead to walk down the hallway with Francis following.

The Reaper Crew had successfully traversed the once dangerous hallway and were waiting in the safety of the concrete built stairwell for Wiley and Francis to join them. When the two men were ten feet away from the entrance a four foot wooden arrow cruised through the air between the two men. Wiley jumped and skipped to get to safety in the stairwell with the rest of the Crew. Francis stopped, reached up to where the crude arrow was impaled in the north wall and wretched the deadly projectile out of the wall. He then slowly turned and looked in the direction of the parking garage to the south.

“They are manning up the three floors everyone! It looks like they have figured out that the poison was just a temporary situation.”

The man dressed in black threw the arrow to the floor and strolled the remaining ten feet to join his squadron.

“They are like cockroaches. You squash one and two more come out of the woodwork to replace the one you just killed. We may have a long night ahead of us,” said Francis.

As Francis spoke several more projectiles fired through the hallway.

“They are firing blind,” said Lynn.

“Yeah, they are,” agreed Calamity Jane, watching.

“I see Ringo down on the southwest corner of the Dykes’ perimeter wall. Look down the Las Vegas Strip! There must be a hundred thousand men on the street!” added the Black Widow.

The scouts moved to a protected window in the Fontainebleau Tower and watched as a barrage of aluminum arrows arced through the night air south to impale hundreds of inmates on the streets below. They also watched as Ringo and fourteen of his scouts continued to fire their AK47s at selected targets.

“We don’t have enough bullets to kill them all. I imagine the Dykes don’t have enough arrows either. Most of them are shooting blindly into the air!” exclaimed the Night Ranger.

Francis strolled over to the window, moving Wiley aside. After peering down on the street for a several seconds he turned and lit up one of his cigars.

“They are bringing a battering ram down the street. The crazies still have a ways to go before they get to the wall. At least we have some time,” said Francis.

“Time for what? Plan B?” asked Amanda softly.

“I reckon so,” answered the Reaper.

“How do we get down to the street Sandra?” asked Lynn.

Sandra had her left arm wrapped around Lynn’s shoulders and her right around Amanda’s shoulders.

“Set her down on the steps to conserve her strength for now. We will be moving down the stairs in a couple of minutes,” ordered Francis.

Lynn and Amanda eased Sandra down to the bottom step and Lynn opened her canteen, urging Sandra to have a drink. She had to hold the canteen for the injured Dyke foot soldier.

Francis walked up to his wife and stood in front of her.

“Baby, I am gonna’ have to take a ride on Two. After I leave you get down to the school where the kids are harbored. Get the horses and mules with the ammo in the building and get some of Ringo’s men to load up those spent chain gun drums. You might need those before I return.”

Suddenly Wiley, who was looking out the south windowless wall at the ongoing activity on the top floor of the parking garage saw four massive balls of mushroom flames erupt into the night sky four or five miles away. He saw the fire before he heard the rumbling sound.

“Holy shit! Something just blew up big time to the south!” he yelled.

The scouts, except for Lynn and Amanda, rushed to join Wiley at the entrance to the dangerous hallway to see what was going on.

“Whatever it was is no longer there! Those are four big mushroom clouds! What exists in that area to cause that? Those explosions look like one of Francis’s pipe bombs! You have anything to do with that Francis?” asked Jane.

“Don’t be silly Janie! I have been with everyone since we rode through the tunnel but I have an idea of who might have been behind those mushroom clouds.”

Lynn and Amanda helped Sandra to her feet and moved her to where she could get a view of the rising orange balls of fire in the Nevada sky.

“What is over there Sandra?” asked Amanda.

Sandra slowly lifted her head in her weakened state and replied.

“That is where McCarren Airport is located. It looks like someone just blew up the Cracker’s clubhouse,” she answered quietly.

“Do you think the Latino Kings and Black Mamba’s pulled that off? Where did they get the explosives to do that? If they have shit like that we may be in serious trouble!” exclaimed Emily.

Francis blew a smoke ring into the air and then spoke.

“I think it is some outfit far more dangerous than the Kings and Mambas,” he said while leaning against one of the concrete walls in the stairwell.

“So what are we going to do?” asked Lynn.

“We are going to hunker down here for a few minutes to see what happens,” replied Francis.

“What about plan B Francis?” exclaimed Wiley.

“We won’t need plan B Wiley. You are about to see plan C.”

Lynn and Amanda helped Sandra back to the bottom step and sat on each side of the injured scout to keep her from falling over.

Everyone except Francis sat silently on the metal steps in the stairwell for the next minute. The sound of chants and drumbeats from the street below still permeated the air while the arrows continued to fly into the sixth floor hallway when Amanda suddenly stood up and spoke.

“I hear…music!” she exclaimed.

“What?” asked Calamity Jane.

“Listen! When the wind is blowing strong I hear music!”

The scouts turned each of their favored ears in the direction of the wind which was blowing from the south and had been their enemy during this battle.

“Look at the mutts! They have their ears perked up and are turning their heads in that direction. They hear music too!” said Amanda.

The scouts listened for the next few seconds trying to hear the faint music that was mixed in with the chants of the mass of inmates gathered on the Strip.

“It is getting louder! I can definitely hear it now! It sounds like a familiar song to me!” added the Night Ranger.

Amanda sat down on the step and grinned.

“I know that song well. Hell has come to Sin City prison my friends,” she said loudly.

“How do you know that Amanda?” asked Wiley.

“The name of that song is Comfortably Numb. All of the experienced scouts know who likes that song.”

“The old man is here!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Yes, the old man is here,” replied Amanda.

The arrows suddenly stopped blasting through the sixth floor hallway. All of the scouts moved to stand in the end of the passageway of the sixth floor, except for Amanda. The Pale Rider knew what was about to happen.

Thirty seconds later all of the scouts could clearly hear the song drifting in the wind and the night air.

“I can hear a helicopter…somewhere. If that is one of ours then what is this old man waiting for?” said Wiley.

Little Jimbo, who was standing beside Wiley, replied.

“He is waiting for the right moment in the song. Amanda has played that song for me many times when we are alone out on the trail on her guitar. It’s a long story, but I know that tune well. Just watch.”

“He needs to quit waiting and do something! The inmates are starting to reposition their catapults! What could he be waiting on?” yelled Wiley.

“The old man is probably watching the video of one of the band’s concerts on his notebook computer while sitting in the passenger’s seat of the chopper. He is waiting on the disco ball, the crazy son of a bitch,” said Amanda softly.

Lynn propped Sandra against Amanda’s body.

“Can you take care of her Amanda?”

“I have her Lynn.”

“This is one show I don’t want to miss,” said Lynn standing up and walking to stand next to Francis. The Night Ranger grabbed his right arm and laid her head on his shoulder while looking to the east.

Francis was also searching the dark sky to the east attempting to locate where the helicopter was hovering. He got his answer quickly.

Out of the dark night to the east of the parking garage two powerful searchlights fired up illuminating the top floor of the parking structure. The scouts could clearly see hundreds of gang members on the garage’s surface scrambling to move their ballistas. When the bright light hit them, many of the gang members froze like a deer in headlights for several seconds turning to look to the east.

The helicopter continued to shine its twin beams at the parking garage. It was a moment where time seemed to slow down while the music played on and seemed to get louder. The helicopter was two hundred yards away from the structure.

“He better do something pretty quick! The inmates are starting to turn their weapons!” yelled Wiley in sheer panic.

“Relax Wiley and enjoy the show. It is what we call retribution,” said Little Jimbo.

One second later the Cobra helicopter opened up on the parking garage with its twin twenty millimeter M 61 Vulcan Gatling guns sending inmate’s bodies violently spinning and flying through the air. Their wooden siege machines splintered into pieces as the barrage continued for several seconds. As the helicopter in the east began to target the seventh and sixth floor of the parking garage the scouts could hear a rumble emanating from the Strip and a cheer from the archers behind the steel wall. The scouts turned to look south down the Strip and all they could see was a wall of flames moving in their direction. As the flames quickly died down the scouts in the stairwell viewed a parade of attack helicopters moving slowly north six hundred feet above the Strip. The attack helicopters were killing anything that moved on the street below in a methodical fashion using their machine guns and hellfire missiles. Many of the once famous casinos in this part of the city were now in flames. The scouts could see thousands of burning bodies lying on the Las Vegas Strip and many more men staggering around still on their feet attempting to find a way to put out the fire that had engulfed their bodies. And the onslaught continued.

“Free America has some damn good chopper pilots,” said Wiley quietly.

“There were a lot of military men locked up in FEMA camp 43 at one time,” answered the Night Ranger.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion nearby. The scouts turned to see the eight story parking garage collapse. The decks started to sandwich to the ground, one deck on top of another. It was over within ten seconds. The parking garage was now a mass of rubble and concrete fifty feet high, sitting in a cloud of dust.

Francis walked over to where Amanda was sitting with Sandra.

“I need to borrow your flag one more time Amanda.”

“Go ahead. It is in my backpack.”

Francis retrieved the bloody flag which was still wet and attached the tattered piece of cloth to the top section of the original flagpole.

“Jimbo, when I start waving this flag standing at the edge of the sixth floor shine your flashlight on the flag,” said Francis.

“The old man will never see you with all the fire and smoke Francis!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“Yes he will. Zak never misses anything. We need to let him know where Lydia and Preacher Joe are headed to. Shine the flashlight on the flag Jimbo!”

Francis was standing at the edge of the sixth floor and began to wave the tattered and bloody flag while Jimbo attempted to focus the beam of the flashlight on the moving cotton cloth.

The music drifting through the air ceased while the attack helicopter continued to hover in the east. After ten seconds the searchlight mounted on its underbelly moved and lit up Francis’s body. Then the chopper started to move in Francis’s direction.

Francis continued to stand at the edge of the sixth floor holding the Free America flag in his right hand.

Soon the attack helicopter was hovering outside the sixth floor less than one hundred feet away from where Francis stood. All of the scouts except for Amanda moved to stand behind the leader of the Reaper Crew, including the six dogs.

All could see Zak’s weathered face sitting in the passenger’s seat of the attack helicopter. The old man had a grin on his face. He leaned forward and held up what looked like a microphone.

“How has your Vegas Vacation been going guys?” he asked.

Francis made a motion with his right hand like cutting his throat, to shut up the old man. Then he used standard hand sign language that every scout was familiar with to let Zak know to go to the top of the Fontainebleau Tower.

“I read you youngster. I will meet you later at the secure entrance of this tower once I am through.”

Then the helicopter started to rise straight up.

Francis rolled up Amanda’s flag and placed it back in her backpack.

“So, did he look happy?”

“You know he did. He has a new and deadly toy to play with,” replied Francis.

“So, what next?” asked Lynn.

“We still need to get down to the infirmary for Sandra and Little Jimbo I reckon.”

As the scouts got Sandra to her feet to move down the metal steps in the stairwell they heard someone yell.

“Commander Wiley! Commander Wiley!” was what everyone heard, including Wiley.

Looking down the sixth floor hallway the scouts saw four Dyke foot soldiers running towards them. In the lead was the foot soldier known as Connie with a C. The young woman jumped on Wiley’s body, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him on his face in many places. The remaining three foot soldiers wrapped their arms around various parts of his upper body, hugging him tightly.

“You saved the Fontainebleau Commander Wiley! Your helicopters arrived in the nick of time! We are so lucky you came today! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” yelled Connie with a C.

The experienced female scouts watched with amused looks on their faces not saying a word. Little Jimbo was laughing while Francis just shook his head silently back and forth. The six dogs were barking and starting to get excited.

Wiley at first, didn’t know what to do but he finally came to his senses when he saw the look on Lynn and Amanda’s faces.

“All right now! Compose yourselves ladies! Act like soldiers! We still have work to do! Stand at attention!”

The four women quickly ceased their celebration and stood in a line in front of Wiley.

“Connie, send one of your soldiers to oversee the Grand Ballroom for now. We may still have some stragglers down there. Check each inmate and make sure they are dead. We are taking no prisoners tonight!”

“We have already…”

“I don’t care! Check them all one more time and keep two hundred soldiers patrolling in that room in case someone unexpectedly drops in for now! In the meantime, we need help getting Sandra down to the ground for medical help! Move it!” commanded Wiley.

Connie spoke briefly with a good looking redhead who turned and went back down the litter strewn hallway. Connie and her remaining two soldiers moved to help Sandra to her feet, relieving Amanda.

The three women moved down the stairwell with Sandra.

Amanda stood up, dusted off the dirt on the seat of her riding leathers and turned to Francis, all the while eyeballing Wiley intently.

“You did pretty good Wiley, considering everything. What now Francis?” asked Amanda while still focusing her steel gaze on Wiley.

“I reckon we will move out on that catwalk to check up on Ringo and Trevor and go from there.”

Jane was peering out the window that afforded her a view of the southwest corner of the steel wall.

“I see Ringo but I don’t see Trevor.”

Amanda looked out the window and then turned around to face Wiley.

“I don’t see him either. You didn’t tell the Dykes that your little brother was also a commander, did you Commander Wiley?” she asked.

Lynn, Janie and Emily moved to stand beside Wiley and all three female scouts had looks of exasperation on their faces.

“Uh, well I might have mentioned that by accident.”

The four female scouts shook their heads and moved to pick up their weapons and supplies.

“Can’t you at least have Sarge bite him in the balls once?” asked Amanda.

Lynn stopped and looked at Wiley who was now not moving anywhere.

“I might be able to do that but that is Studly’s forte. Janie will have to give the command and we will have to wait until Wiley is sitting down somewhere,” replied Lynn.

“You better keep both hands next your privates for the next few hours Wiley. I will be watching you,” added Janie.

Wiley lead the way down the dark stairwell. He soon found it was difficult to climb down dark stairs without using at least one hand to hold the stair rail. He was thankful that it was only one flight.

* * * * *

Chapter Twenty Two

Sermon from Above

Arriving at the fifth floor landing Francis stopped to get his bearings and to check on how Little Jimbo was making out with the injury to his leg.

“Are you gonna’ be able to walk Jimbo?”

“Sure. I have never felt better.”

Amanda moved to stand in front of Little Jimbo face to face.

“Tell me the truth. Is your leg hurting?”

“I am telling the truth! It throbs a little but I will be fine!”

“Give me your flashlight Jimbo,” ordered Francis.

Jimbo surrendered his flashlight in the dark stairwell to Francis while the party of scouts watched. Francis squatted down and shined the light on Little Jimbo’s injured leg.

Before he stood up he hit Jimbo’s leg lightly.

“Ow!” yelled Jimbo.

“He will be fine. There is no bleeding although he will be sore for a few days.”

“Francis! Sometimes you act like the old man!” yelled Lynn.

Francis pulled out one of thin cigars, struck a match and the light illuminated his unshaven face.

“No I don’t. He doesn’t smoke. We need to go through that metal door to get to the catwalk. Is it locked Emily?”

Emily tried the emergency handlebar on the door and it opened slightly.

“Nope. I see out the window a set of metal stairs going down to the catwalk. It looks sturdy. I think everyone, including the dogs, will be safe.”

“Then let’s go pay Ringo and Trevor a visit before we hit the ground,” replied Francis.

Emily opened the door and the four German Shepherds along with the two Jack Russell terriers charged down the metal stairs.

“I think the dogs have had enough of this tower,” said Janie.

“Who hasn’t?” agreed Lynn.

The scouts ambled down the thirty metal steps with Francis bringing up the rear. The first person they encountered was Ringo. Emily and Jane hugged the scout passionately while the Reaper Crew moved onto the elevated platform.

“Good grief! Get one of these empty rooms in Las Vegas!” exclaimed Amanda.

Ringo laughed while hanging onto Calamity Jane.

“I heard Zak on the loudspeaker! This has been one vacation that I will remember before I book a return to this city. What a fight!”

“Did any of our scouts get killed or injured?” asked the Night Ranger.

“Say, where is my brother?” asked Wiley looking around on the expansive elevated platform.

Ringo’s tanned face turned serious.

“Your brother took a nasty blow to the back of his head from a flying rock. He took the blow to save that blonde’s life standing next to my AK47. It was a very heroic act. I don’t know how he is but the Dyke medics quickly carted him off to the infirmary. By the time I put my gun against the steel wall they were carrying him off on a stretcher. I reckon he was taken to their infirmary.”

“Which blonde Ringo? There are ten of them on that part of the catwalk?” asked Wiley with panic in his voice.

Ringo turned and pointed.

“The cute one with the long ponytail wearing the burgundy shorts. Her name is Ashley. She is the captain of these brave archers that were on the catwalk with my scouts.”

Wiley quickly moved to ask the blonde about his brother. The female scouts followed behind him while Jimbo and Francis stayed with the dog pack at the bottom of the metal stairs, watching what was going on. The area on the catwalk was busy and below on the ground Francis could see some of Free America’s scouts carrying injured Dyke foot soldiers lying on stretchers to some large double doors in the side of the tower.

“Are you Ashley?” asked Wiley.

“Yes. May I help you?” asked the cute blonde who knew right away that the young man standing beside her was a scout from Free America by the way he was dressed.

“I heard my brother was injured! Could you show me the way to the infirmary?”

“Oh my God! Yes! You must be Commander Wiley! Commander Trevor was injured by a boulder! Follow me! I will take you to him right away!”

Wiley’s eyes grew wide when he heard the word boulder.

The young blonde took Wiley’s right hand and led him down the exterior metal stairs from the catwalk to the ground below. Three of the Dyke’s archers followed closely behind Wiley.

Lynn, Amanda, Emily and Janie walked over to where Francis and Jimbo were standing with Ringo.

“A boulder? Was Trevor hurt bad Ringo?” asked Amanda.

“It wasn’t a boulder. It was a rock the size of a baseball. He took a hard blow to his head. He definitely will need some stitches and he certainly has a severe concussion I would imagine if he survived. I don’t know at this time but it looked pretty bad to me.”

“God, these airhead women make Trevor and Wiley sound like supermen!” said Amanda.

At that moment the women archers on the catwalk and the people below tilted back their heads to look to the nighttime sky and began to point.

The female scouts looked up to see what was attracting so much attention. In the air eight hundred feet above the scouts could make out three figures standing on what looked to be a pig iron girder jutting out over the Strip. The three figures were illuminated by a spotlight.

“That spotlight has to be coming from Zak’s helicopter! Who is that out on that skinny girder?” asked Jane.

Francis looked up to see what was causing all the excitement peering through one of his smoke rings. He reached in the Pale Rider’s backpack, which she had fastened to her shoulders, and removed her binoculars. He placed them to his eyes and focused the lens.

“Is that who I think it is lover?” asked Lynn, moving to stand close to her man while looking up.

“Who else? Here, take a look.”

Lynn looked through the binoculars.

“What do you see Lynn? Tell us! I didn’t bring my eyes!” yelled Jane.

“Neither did I! What is going on!” added Emily.

“Zak is standing on the girder four feet away from the edge of the building. I see Big Jimbo standing at the edge of the tower holding a chain gun!”

“Wow! That has to be a first! Big Jimbo is scared shitless of heights! He never would ride with me across the Nightmare Trail after the first time! I see more than two people up there Lynn! Who else is that out on the girder?” asked Little Jimbo while looking up.

“I see Preacher Joe standing about halfway out and at the end is…oh my Lord! It is the White Widow and some other female sitting on the girder. The White Widow has her pneumatic bow in her right hand and has a rope in her left. The rope is cinched around the woman’s neck!” she reported.

“What in the hell?” said Amanda.

“What is Preacher Joe doing?” asked Little Jimbo.

“It looks like, it looks like…he is reading the Good Book!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Good grief! Those two are as crazy as the old man! The wind has got to be blowing like hell at that height!” said Amanda.

“That girder can’t be more than sixteen, eighteen inches wide! Lydia has something else in her right hand. Wait! I see what it is! She is sticking it in the end of the girder!”

“How can that be?” asked Jane.

“There must be a hole in the girder somewhere. She just planted a Free America flag in the end of the girder! It looks exactly like your flag Amanda! Here, take a look! I can’t watch anymore! Lydia and Preacher Joe are going to fall if they keep dancing up there!” said Lynn.

She handed the binoculars back to their original owner.

“I’ll be damned! That is one of our flags, rattlesnake and all. Look at how the flag is acting. The wind must be blowing pretty stiffly up there. The flag is standing straight out. That girl has a lot of scout in her to be doing that. She ain’t afraid of heights, that’s for sure. I don’t know what the hell Preacher Joe is doing.”

Francis finally spoke.

“He is giving Zak’s ex communion and reading her last rites. What you are watching is a religious ceremony and…an execution.”

“How do you know that baby?” asked Lynn, placing her head on his left shoulder not wanting to watch what was going on high in the air over the Strip.

“I know Zak.”

* * * * *

It didn’t take Zak’s attack helicopter very much time to climb up to the roof of the Fontainebleau Tower.

“Hover right here for now Harry, until I figure out what the hell is going on but I think I know, I am just not sure who.”

“Zak, you promised me we would be staying low to the ground on this trip!” exclaimed Big Jimbo.

Big Jimbo, who used to ride with Little Jimbo before the Pale Rider became his partner, was an extremely tall and an extremely muscular scout. He was an African-American and had been with Zak since the very first day Free America in Nevada started.

He was also terrified of heights.

“You don’t have to worry Big Jimbo! It is dark and you can’t see the ground!” said a small voice.

Big Jimbo was riding in the rear seat of the attack helicopter. Beside him on the big seat were two more scouts and sitting beside the big man and between another big scout was a tiny figure.

“Little Zak! Look down there! Do you see all those fires burning up those buildings! That is a long ways down! Zak, you said we wouldn’t be flying higher than a hundred feet above the ground to get here!”

“Big Jimbo, it doesn’t matter if you fall from a hundred feet or a thousand feet. Either way you are gonna’ be dead if that happens,” persisted little Zak.

“Listen to the little man and toughen up Big Jimbo. This shouldn’t take us too long and we will be back near the ground soon!” exclaimed Zak, looking around on the roof of the Fontainebleau Tower.

“Who we looking for boss?” asked one of the rough scouts in the back seat.

“I think we are looking for Preacher Joe and maybe a couple of female foot soldiers. I didn’t see Joe standing behind Francis down on the lower floor. Then again, I didn’t see the Pale Rider but I can’t imagine her climbing seventy seven floors after this rough day. Keep your eyes peeled and keep an eye on the doors. I only see two of them. Harry, keep the searchlights on those doors.”

Little Zak petted Big Jimbo’s big right muscular arm.

“It will be okay Big Jimbo. If we crash at least we will be on the roof and it is just below us.”

“Are you sure this kid isn’t related to you in some way Zak?” asked Big Jimbo.

Zak just grinned sitting in the front seat keeping an eye on the doors to the roof.

Zak’s helicopter had hovered for two minutes when finally one of the roof doors flung open. Out of the door a female was pushed violently to sprawl across the roof. The searchlight illuminated what was happening. Out of the door stepped a woman with a pneumatic bow at the ready, a man dressed in black carrying a small object that looked like a book and ten to fifteen more women.

“I recognize the female sprawled on the roof Zak and I see Joe but what about the others? Are they hostile?” asked Big Jimbo.

“No. There is only one that is hostile and she is on the asphalt roof. The rest are now our friends. Set the chopper on the helipad Harry. Keep the engines ready and keep the searchlights on the action. Little Zak, you stay buckled in your seat. Understand?”

“Sure Zak. As long as I can see what is going on I will stay right here. Are we gonna’ get my friends after this?”

“Yep. We will be getting your friends after this but if you get out of that seat I will be taking your little butt home tonight. Do we have a deal?”

“Sure.”

As Zak opened his door the small boy spoke out.

“We have to shake on it Zak!”

Zak shook his head and extended his right hand to the rear seat, which the small boy took. He shook the leader of the Free America movement in Nevada’s hand.

“You are as hard headed as some of my scouts!” exclaimed the old man.

“Good, that’s because I am a scout! I like this pair of pants, the shirt and the vest. And I really like this hat! It looks like Little Jimbo’s!” exclaimed little Zak with a big grin on his face.

The helicopter rested on the helipad and Zak, Big Jimbo and the two scouts from Free America walked across the roof to where the White Widow, Preacher Joe and the Dyke foot soldiers were standing. The woman who was thrown through the door remained sitting on the roof.

Zak paused, nodded at the assembled group and then walked to where the woman was sitting on the roof of the Fontainebleau Tower and was crying loudly. Zak bent over and took her hand helping her to her feet.

“Hello Tricia. It’s been a long time. Looks like you have gotten yourself in over your head again.”

“Zak! You have to help me! These people want to kill me!” she said glaring at Lydia, Joe and the foot soldiers.

“I imagine so after what you just tried to pull off. What the hell is wrong with your thinking process? You tried to put eighty thousand plus women into slavery and kill the children you were supposed to take care of. What did you expect to get in return for doing something like that?” asked Zak, looking directly into his ex wife’s eyes.

“Nothing! I didn’t do anything like that!”

Zak shook his head and looked at Preacher Joe who was standing silently nearby.

“We intercepted your conversations with the leaders of the Black Mamba’s and the Latino King’s. I just killed most of them along with the Crackers tonight. What did they promise you in return for this…debacle?”

At first she didn’t answer. Then she answered with a snarl.

“They promised me something you couldn’t deliver! They promised they would take care of me!”

Zak stepped back and saw a face that was full of hate. At first he searched for an answer. Finally he found one.

“Well, the only thing I can say is I still can’t deliver. She’s all yours girls.”

He then motioned to Lydia to take control of the situation.

“No! No! Help me Zak!” she yelled as Lydia stepped forward and grabbed the rope that was tied around her neck.

“Hold on for just a minute White Widow. I want to speak with Joe for a brief moment,” said Zak.

Zak walked over to the man of God and motioned for him to follow to have a private conversation. Walking fifteen feet away they spoke to one another.

“So, what is the plan Joe?”

Joe took a deep breath then answered.

“The White Widow and her comrades are wanting to dispense justice the way it was done in the west a hundred years ago. They are planning to hang her from that girder jutting out over the Strip,” answered Joe pointing at a spot on the west roof.

Zak turned to look in the direction where Joe was pointing. He motioned for Harry to move one of the searchlights to illuminate the area where Joe had pointed. Zak then slowly walked the one hundred feet to the edge of the roof. Jutting out into the air was a stout pig iron girder that had been left years ago when the Fontainebleau Tower was abandoned because of the financial crisis. The girder had never been cut off by any torch and had been left all these years. The girder protruded out from the tower at least twenty feet.

As Zak walked the Preacher and the women followed him. Standing at the edge of the roof the wind was howling and gusting strongly. Far below on the street he could see the fires raging in the casino buildings along the Strip where his combat helicopters had previously set on fire. For a long moment the scene was surreal. Las Vegas was burning to the ground. Zak turned to speak with the White Widow.

“So Lydia, we just loop the rope around this girder and throw her off the roof, right?”

Lydia shook her head slowly back and forth.

“No,” she answered.

“Okay then. What exactly are we, uh, you planning to do?” said Zak looking over the edge of the roof to see the foot soldiers scurrying around on the ground next to the Fontainebleau Tower. From this height, the people on the ground looked like ants.

“I am going to walk this traitor out to the very end of this big piece of iron, fasten this lariat which is attached to her neck to the girder and then push her off. I might even shoot her with my pneumatic bow as a symbol to my sisters on the street below before I throw her overboard.”

“No! No!” screamed Tricia.

“And…what are you going to do Joe?” asked the old man turning to the Preacher.

“I am going to fulfill my duties to God. I am going to give your ex wife communion and give her the last rites. She at least deserves that.”

The foot soldiers were standing behind Joe silently.

“Whew! You two are right up there with Amanda, Lynn and Francis when it comes to going crazy on me! You two do realize the wind has to be whipping through the air at twenty to thirty knots, right? You two do realize that you might be blown off that skinny piece of iron and fall to your death, don’t you?”

Big Jimbo slowly eased to the edge of the roof, looked down quickly and then backed away two feet to steady his body with a pipe sticking out of the roof. His big body began to shake uncontrollably.

“Joe! Me and Georgia Boy didn’t put in all those hours of training for you to commit suicide! It is too damn windy up here to be walking the plank and that is a long ways to the ground! Why don’t we just shoot her up here on the roof, put the noose around her neck, tie the rope to this big ass pipe and throw her off?” said Big Jimbo loudly above the noise of the wind.

“No this is what the White Widow and the foot soldiers who were guarding Tricia want to do. It is their way of seeing that justice is served.”

The stiff wind was causing Joe’s ponytail to move wildly behind his head. Both of the Free America scouts had tightened the leather string beneath their chins to keep their wide brimmed hats from blowing away. The wide brims of the hats were flapping violently in the breeze.

Zak looked at the girder once again. To him, the girder seemed the length of a football field and as skinny as a pencil.

“Is this some type of one up man ship bullshit Joe? Do you, Francis and Little Jimbo have some type of crazy bet on this? Let me see, first Big and Little Jimbo coined the Passageway of Faith, then Little Jimbo and Francis created the Seat of Faith and there is no telling what other little labels have been created between those two knuckleheads the past few years that I don’t know about.”

“We now have a Hallway of Faith too. The White Widow created that. I will tell you about it later but now is not the time. She just informed me about that while climbing up the stairs,” answered Joe with a somber look on his face.

“So, you feel it is necessary to show everyone the Girder of Faith?” asked Zak turning to the White Widow.

The woman yanked the rope around Tricia’s neck and answered.

“No, this was my sister soldiers idea. I hadn’t thought about that in such a fashion but hell yes, I like the label. The Girder of Faith.”

Zak shook his head and then sighed.

“I would say it is more like the girder of death but okay, this is your show and your life. You too Joe. If you are gonna’ pull this crazy stunt at least I have just one request. I want you to do something for me if you don’t mind Lydia. Give me a minute to go to the helicopter. I will be right back.”

“Sure, go ahead Zak. I will wait.”

Zak ambled over to his helicopter and returned with a long object in his hands.

“I see several holes in the end of that long ass girder. The end of this six foot stick is tapered. Do you think you could plant this pole in the end of that girder? The wind will do the rest. Now, don’t do this if you think it will cause your to lose your balance.”

Lydia and Joe looked at the pole and immediately knew what type of cloth was wrapped around it. Lydia took the flagpole and placed it under her right armpit.

“It won’t affect me but I am positive this flag will affect a lot of people on the ground tonight and a lot of people in the future. I don’t care if that girder was a mile long because I am so mad right now. Let’s get this service underway Preacher,” said Lydia.

Before stepping out on the girder the young scout placed a canvas bag over Tricia’s head.

“No! No! Please! No!” she screamed.

She began to struggle. The woman began to resist violently. Lydia struck her head with her fist. Tricia went limp falling to the roof.

“That’s gonna’ make it pretty difficult to walk out on that girder dragging a body,” said Zak.

“I will plant the Free America flag first so my hands will be free,” replied Lydia.

The young scout turned and calmly walked out to the end of the girder in the stout wind. Never once did she stop as if she had lost her balance. She stuck the flagpole in one of the holes and turned to walk back. It looked as if she was strolling on any sidewalk

Big Jimbo shielded his eyes, refusing to watch.

As the wind howled the Free America flag unfurled to be displayed in the bright light from Zak’s helicopter.

“Come on Big Jimbo! Man up! You will be missing a moment in history that will be long remembered in Free America’s legacy and you have a front row seat!” yelled Zak over the swirling wind.

Big Jimbo managed to muster his courage once Lydia returned to the roof. His eyes were wide with fear but he said nothing. Zak was shifting his weight from foot to foot watching the display of courage or lunacy. He wasn’t sure which display Lydia’s walk would be classified under.

When the White Widow returned she took a deep breath, looked at Zak and nodded her head. She placed the coiled lariat around her right shoulder and grabbed both of Tricia’s hands. Then she back peddled on the sixteen inch wide girder dragging her out to where she was three feet from the Free America flag, which was whipping in the stiff breeze.

Preacher Joe stepped on the girder with his bible in both hands and followed.

Once Lydia had the former leader of the Dykes lying on her back she stepped around her body which instantly gave Zak chills. Where the White Widow had stepped could have only been four inches wide at the very most which was on the right edge of the girder. Then she looped the rope around the girder tying a secure knot and then squatted down with Preacher Joe standing directly behind her.

One minute later Tricia started to stir. Lydia moved Tricia’s legs to straddle the girder on each side. At the same time she stood up and grabbed the noose around her neck to help her to get to a sitting position.

“I can’t give her communion or her last rites with a canvas bag covering her head Lydia,” said Joe.

“I understand Preacher.”

Lydia yanked the canvas bag off Tricia’s head. Once the former leader of the Dykes realized where she was at she grabbed each side of the pig iron girder with both hands and started to scream her head off.

Lydia squatted back down so Tricia could easily view Preacher Joe less than six feet away.

Joe started to recite the necessary words for communion and then started with Tricia’s last rites. He held the Bible in his hands but he had the passages memorized. It would be impossible to read from the good book because of the wind. He had performed these ceremonies many times.

When Preacher Joe concluded he made the sign of the cross, turned and walked back to the safety of the Fontainebleau roof leaving Lydia alone with the traitor on the girder eighteen feet out and eight hundred feet above the Strip.

“I don’t know your name but please, please let me live!” cried Tricia.

Lydia removed the pneumatic bow slung over her shoulder and aimed it at the desperate woman.

“I will give you two choices woman. That is more than what you were going to give me and the children.”

“What is that?” asked the traitor with hope in her voice.

Lydia leveled her bow at the woman’s chest. She knew that the pressure gauge on her weapon was set to ten.

“You can either jump in the next few seconds or I am going to kill you with a bow from the organization that you were supposed to protect and serve.”

“No! No! No!” screamed Tricia grasping the girder so hard the knuckles on both of her hands were turning white.

Lydia hesitated for a few seconds listening to her former leader’s screams. Then she pulled the trigger on the pneumatic bow. The aluminum twenty six inch arrow entered the leader’s chest, protruding out of the center of her back.

Tricia’s pleading cries ended. Slowly she fell to the south side of the girder. The hemp rope stiffened. Lydia turned and walked back to where Zak was standing. When safely on the roof she turned to see the former leader of the Dykes body swinging in the stiff breeze swirling in a southern direction above the Strip.

Zak, Big Jimbo, the two scouts along with the White Widow, Preacher Joe and the former body guards stood silently on the roof for a long minute watching the body at the end of a twenty foot rope swing back and forth.

Finally Zak spoke.

“I never liked her anyway. Meet you two down where the horses are. We need to regroup and discuss some critical things right now. See you in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes! Uncle Zak, we have to go down seventy seven floors!” exclaimed Joe.

Zak grinned his usual cruel grin.

“Okay. Make it fifteen minutes!”

Then he turned and went back to his helicopter along with Big Jimbo and the two scouts.

It had been a trying religious service.

* * * * *

Amanda lowered her binoculars once the body was swinging from the girder high above the Las Vegas Strip.

“Damn! That was one hell of a show! Once this place gets some reliable electricity these women should light up that flag. It looks good up there.”

“I reckon we better be hitting the ground. I see Zak’s helicopter looking for a place to land on the street,” said Francis.

The scouts picked up their weapons and supplies and headed down the exterior metal stairway from the catwalk. They were followed by Ringo’s fourteen scouts that had pulled duty on the elevated platform. Once on the ground they grouped around Francis.

“Are you going with us Ringo?” asked Francis.

“I guess so for now. Do you have any idea where to meet the old man?”

“He will go where we have our rides. You can bet on that,” said Calamity Jane.

Francis nodded his head yes.

“I reckon so.”

“What about Wiley?” asked Lynn.

“Fuck him! When we need him to join us all anyone has to do is grab one of these little bitches and tell them that we need to speak with Commander Wiley, the little prick,” said Amanda.

Her three female scout friends laughed.

“Do you think we should go check on Trevor?” asked Emily.

“I was thinking about doing that but I would start puking if he was being babied by twenty of these horny women. We better get to the stable area, take care of the horses, mules and dogs. The mutts are hungry,” said Little Jimbo.

Everyone turned to look at the leader of the Reaper Crew. Francis had one of his trademark thin cigars in his lips and it was lit. He removed the thin cigar from his lips and focused his cruel gaze on his scouts. Then he tilted his head back slightly and blew a small perfect smoke ring in. He watched the ring drift in the air for several seconds until it broke up into small strings of white smoke.

“I think that is the plan for now,” said Francis.

* * * * *

Chapter Twenty Three

A Long Night

Francis and his tired squadron along with the six dogs took their time once down on the ground from the catwalk that ran the perimeter of the Fontainebleau Tower. Dyke foot soldiers were scurrying about tending to clean up details within the massive courtyard that surrounded the clubhouse and were attending to the other details in life that were required to maintain the status quo of the gang, most importantly, seeing to the medical attention from injuries that some of their sister soldiers had incurred during the night’s violent confrontation with the Black Mambas and the Latino Kings. It could only be described as organized chaos that was illuminated by torchlight.

As the Reaper Crew limped and walked to the temporary stable where the horses were to be found many of the young women would stop in their tracks to stare at the rough looking squadron. Many of the female soldiers formed small groups, holding their hands to their faces to mask whatever they were saying. The four German Shepherds and two small Jack Russell terriers were on high alert forming a perimeter fence on each side of the Reaper Crew sending a clear message to anyone not to come close to the battered scouts. Lynn said nothing to deter their behavior because basically she didn’t care. She just wanted to get to her horse and mule, take care of her animals and to sit down for a while to rest. It had been a long day and the night was getting longer.

As the scouts approached the temporary stable that had been set up in the Fontainebleau courtyard near the children’s playground area all of the scouts were surprised by what they found. The group stopped one hundred feet away and looked at what to them, was a miracle. The stable area had been modified after their arrival earlier in the day. The radical change had happened since they had left to do battle. What surprised them even more was the bales of hay, the bags of oats stacked as high as a man and a black stretch limousine that was parked nearby.

There were at least twenty young women attending to the horses and mules, laughing and working with the scout’s animals as if there had been no immediate threat to their survival in Sin City prison. The female inmates were…happy.  Some of the young women were brushing down the animals, some were washing down two of the three nasty mules and the others were fitting brand new feeding bags filled with fresh oats to many of the horses.

What surprised the scouts from Free America most was the fact that their horses and mules seemed to be happy too, enjoying all of the attention.

The dog pack froze beside the Night Ranger and Calamity Jane not knowing what to do. The dogs sat down in front of their masters waiting for their next verbal order but all were wagging their tails, as if they were waiting for the command to join in on the fun.

“What in the hell?” exclaimed Amanda.

Spooky was feeding on a large bag of oats and there were three women brushing down his coat. Another young blonde haired woman was brushing out his tail while another brunette was attending to his mane.

“Now be nice Amanda. What a nice gesture! I was thinking about all the work I still had to do with Butch once we got down here. Look at the floor of the stable! There must be twenty bales of fresh hay stacked against that wall and another twenty spread out on the floor. There ain’t a speck of horse shit to be seen anywhere! This is amazing!” said the Night Ranger.

Amanda never liked anyone to be around Spooky other than Little Jimbo but after this rough day, even she was beginning to feel grateful. Her entire body was sore from the day’s rough ride.

“I wonder where the girls got the bales of fresh hay and the other supplies, like the horse feed? Look at all the brushes and shit shovels! There ain’t no farms near Sin City for a hundred miles or more!” exclaimed Little Jimbo surveying the stable area.

“What do you think is going on Francis? Did you know anything about this?” asked Lynn as the six dogs moved to sit or pace in front of a tired squadron keeping an eye on the stable area while wagging their tales, letting their true emotions show.

The dog pack was waiting on the command to join in on the fun.

“Hell if I know. That is Joe’s limousine sitting over there but I don’t believe it was used to get forty or fifty bales of hay into this place. Plus I see a ton of feed and four more horses that we didn’t bring with us. Where in the hell did they come from?” he replied.

“Look at the stall where Butch is standing! I see two one hundred pound bags of Milk Bone dog biscuits sitting against that partition! That tells me the foot soldiers had someone tell them to put those bags of dog biscuits in the Night Ranger’s stall because of the mutts! I am beginning to smell a Zak operation!” said Calamity Jane.

One of the Dyke foot soldiers who was brushing down Spooky noticed the Reaper Crew standing one hundred feet away observing the hustle and bustle ongoing in the temporary stable. She hung her big brush on a hook on one of the walls of the temporary stable, brushed off the hair on her shorts and headed in the direction of the scouts. The female scouts noticed there was a large assortment of brand new brushes hanging on the wall along with many other necessary tools to maintain a horse or a mule. The young foot soldier smiled and walked up to the waiting group of scouts. The young woman couldn’t have been more than twenty years of age.

“Hi! My name is Leslie. Welcome to the Fontainebleau stable! I am supposed to ask for Lynn or Amanda when you return according to the note I received.”

Lynn looked at Amanda and she just shrugged her shoulders. Lynn took control of the situation, like she always seemed to do.

“I am Lynn. It is nice to meet you Leslie.”

The two women shook hands.

“I just wanted to let you know right away that these girls were the ones who popped up on our computer search out of one hundred thousand names who have had experience with horses and their care. Most of them grew up on a farm somewhere before they were sent to Sin City prison but I can assure you they all love horses. We can’t wait until tomorrow when we can start riding the four horses Johnny sent us!” she said excitedly.

“Johnny?” asked Lynn with a confused tone in her voice.

The young woman reached in her front pocket and produced a folded piece of paper. She handed the paper to Lynn. Lynn unfolded the paper, read what was scrawled on the note and then handed it to Amanda. A smile crept across her pretty face.

“Johnny? That wouldn’t be our Johnny, would it?” asked Little Jimbo.

Lynn nodded her head yes but at first said nothing. She looked at Francis but he just smiled and turned to watch the young girls caring for their animals.

“Leslie, this is Amanda. Johnny is the head stable master at our base. I just would like to know how the hay, supplies and horses got to Sin City prison and when?”

“The supplies came in a big semi truck a couple of hours ago. The man driving the black limousine led them here.”

“Them?” asked Little Jimbo.

“Yes sir! It is so exciting! There were twenty or thirty big trucks that were behind the limousine! We had the drivers park them at the south dock! We can only unload six trailers at a time but that is not taking us too long. We have five thousand workers working on that dock right now, unloading the supplies in the trailers. The man driving the limousine told us to unload the first truck right away. He said the scouts from Free America would be needing the supplies now. When we opened the doors this note was pinned on the wall of hay. So we have been scrambling ever since and I was appointed to be the stable master at the Fontainebleau. I grew up with horses until four years ago.”

The scouts from Free America were happy…and highly confused. For once in her life, Amanda didn’t know what to say. Lynn picked up on the ongoing conversation.

“So tell me Leslie. How in the hell did you wind up in Sin City prison?” asked Lynn

The Night Ranger wanted to know who was caring for their animals.

The young woman let an expression of sadness move across her face.

“When Homeland Security surrounded my parent’s house to take them away I helped my father to fight them off. I was sixteen then and I might have killed a few of them using one of my dad’s shotguns, who knows? The government killed my father, mother and two brothers. I was the last in the house that was still alive and while I was bending over my mom’s body someone hit me in the back of my head. One month later I was sent to Sin City prison.”

“Where did this happen?” continued Lynn.

“We had a farm in southern Virginia.”

Lynn looked at Amanda with an uneasy expression on her face.

“I have been wondering about that. It seems to me that there are a lot of young women serving in the Dykes as foot soldiers. That seems to be pretty young to be a hard core criminal. Have some of your foot soldiers had the same experience you had?” asked Lynn.

“Most of them. A few of them were drug addicts but most of them were sent here because of killing a government goon trying to take their parents or another family member. There are a few that were wild when they were young and did crazy things like robbing something or stealing something but not many. Some of them were sent here because of their religious beliefs or opposition to the dictator because of what they said or what they wrote. Those were the ones we had to work with when they first arrived but those are the ones who have proved to be the most effective foot soldiers.”

“By effective I take it you mean they have turned out to be like the White Widow?” asked Amanda.

“I kind of mean that. Nobody is like the White Widow, especially when it comes to dealing with the male gang members. The White Widow doesn’t deal,” answered Leslie.

“It kind of sounds like our scouts Leslie. Where is the man who was driving the black stretch limousine?” asked Little Jimbo who had been eavesdropping on the conversation between Lynn, Amanda and Leslie.

Leslie got a look of excitement on her face.

“You are speaking of Uncle Danny! Did you know he is Preacher Joe’s uncle? None of us knew Preacher Joe had any family! Uncle Danny is a great person, for a man! He is in the limousine at this moment giving some of our foot soldiers a tour of its interior! It was strange though when he arrived with the trucks. He told us he didn’t have any idea who Commander Wiley or Commander Trevor might be! I thought that was odd.”

Amanda looked at Lynn with a look of bemusement.

“Uncle Danny is at an isolated outpost for Free America most of the time Leslie. Commander Wiley can’t be everywhere I guess but he certainly tries to be,” replied Amanda with a subdued tone in her voice.

Calamity Jane and Emily could barely contain their laughter. Lynn stepped in to interfere.

“Carry on with your duties Leslie. It looks like you and your crew are doing a fine job and I just want you to know that the scouts from Free America really appreciate this. I will be sure to tell Commander Wiley about the fine staff we have found at the Fontainebleau stable. So Joe’s uncle is presently in the limousine?” asked Lynn.

The young woman who was the stable master at the Fontainebleau grinned broadly and then nodded her head yes.

“I will be over in the stable if you need me. Thank you for the opportunity,” added the young lady.

Lynn sauntered over to her husband and stood in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his chest, placing her head on his left shoulder and squeezed.

“I need a hug, “ she said.

Francis gave her a firm hug while moving his blue eyed stare to each of his scouts. He finally focused on the Pale Rider.

“What next Amanda?” he asked.

“What time is it?” she asked.

Francis looked at his tattered wristwatch on his right wrist.

“It is almost eleven. The night is still young in Sin City.”

“Damn! It seems like it should be three or four in the morning! This is turning out to be one of the longest days in my life! I thought we came here to free up some kids! That seems like it was discussed a week ago!”

Little Jimbo walked over to the black stretch limousine and opened the two double doors on the passenger side. Inside the limo sitting on the luxurious seats between two gorgeous foot soldiers from the Dykes the scouts could see Uncle Danny and several more of the foot soldiers. He had an arm around the shoulders of the two nearest young ladies, was smoking a cigar and the group was apparently watching a movie on the twenty seven inch LED television set mounted just behind the driver’s seat.

The remainder of the Reaper Crew moved to stand behind Little Jimbo to see what was going on inside the limo.

“Hi guys and girls! There sure has been a lot of rumbling from the south the last hour! This limo is supposed to be soundproof but I could hear the rumble over the program on the television set. What’s been going on?”

The experienced female scouts allowed for cold hard stares to creep across their faces. Little Jimbo laughed.

“It looks like you have been working real hard Uncle Danny,” answered Little Jimbo.

“I was told to wait here for the Reaper Crew.”

“How long have you been here?” asked Amanda with a hard edge in her voice.

“Oh, I have been here maybe one hour or so. This is the third episode of the Rifleman that we have been watching. Once an episode is complete the girls go and get twelve more to watch the next program. I just love the Rifleman shows. It has been fun.”

“Who told you to do that?” fumed Amanda.

“My brother! He said we will need to establish good relationships with the foot soldiers in Sin City! He said something about the women were about to lose their leader for some reason. Since I have been having fun with these girls all I keep hearing about is Commander Wiley and Commander Trevor from the Free America scouts and how the ladies at the Fontainebleau hope they will step up and become their leaders! Who the hell are they?”

“They are new Free America scouts Dan, although the women may need to redress their hopes possibly tonight. There is a rumor running around that the two commanders might be assassinated before the sun comes up today,” said Amanda.

Amanda’s three female scout friends laughed.

“Maybe we better watch out for them and give them some protection. These young ladies seemed to be enamored with these two characters. I would like to meet them. When did they join Free America?”

No one answered Uncle Danny.

“What’s wrong? Francis?” asked Dan.

Francis motioned for Uncle Danny to get out of the limousine and have a word with him in private.

“I will be right back ladies. Continue to watch how the west used to be. I used to know the Rifleman personally when I was a young man.”

“Oh brother! You are just as bad as Wiley! Does anyone have a pencil that I could use?” asked Amanda.

Uncle Danny pulled a pencil out of this right vest pocket and handed it to Amanda from where he was sitting in the limo between the two young women..

“Uh, here you go Amanda! What do you need a pencil for so suddenly?” he asked.

Amanda pulled the piece of paper out of her right pocket that Johnny had sent with the first trailer and started to scribble on the folded sheet.

“I am expanding my list of people who I want to assassinate before the sun comes up today,” said Amanda.

She finished scribbling on the folded piece of paper and tossed the pencil back to Uncle Danny then turned to face Lynn. She winked at the Night Ranger.

Uncle Danny cautiously climbed out of the limousine and walked the ten feet to stand by Francis keeping an eye on the Pale Rider. Amanda turned away from the Night Ranger and then moved to Francis to make sure she was part of the conversation.

“Wiley joined us on this ride when we left you and went across the Hoover Dam bridge. He was a member of the Texas Free America militia along with his brother Trevor but they went absent without leave and asked to join the Free America scouts of Nevada. It gets complicated from there…Uncle Danny,” said Francis.

“Are you telling me neither of those boys went through our basic training program at the Secondary Base?”

“No, but they both have the potential to become good scouts. They both can tell tall tales just like you! They have been telling these air headed women they were the commanders of the Reaper Crew in the hopes of getting in their pants just like you knowing the Rifleman! I think it is mostly Wiley but what the hell. He has been fighting with us shoulder to shoulder and it hasn’t been an easy ride unlike you and your easy ride. Does this bullshit run in the family?” said Amanda.

Danny laughed.

“Damn! That does sound like me and Zak when we were young.”

“So what are we going to do next…Uncle Danny?” asked Francis.

“You don’t know what is going on do you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you old man? We have been pretty damn busy ever since we rode into this shit hole!” exploded Amanda.

“Okay! I’m sorry! Zak has decided to accelerate his plans. He is going to attack Nellis Air Force Base, the Hussein mounted patrol compound and FEMA camp 37 tonight! Scott has his army in the mountains nearby with plenty of shoulder fired surface to air missiles to ground the planes and helicopters stationed at Nellis. Zak has forty or fifty attack helicopters sitting on the tarmac at McCarren Airport and there are fifty bombardiers in the semi trucks waiting to be unloaded. You can ask him. He should be here in ten or fifteen minutes. He just sent me a message on my notebook computer wanting to know if you guys were here. I told him that your crew was probably on the way. There he is now!” answered Dan nodding at the entrance to the courtyard.

Uncle Danny was relieved to see his brother walking across the courtyard and getting the Pale Rider off his back. Francis moved to stand next to Dan and whispered in his ear.

“You are lucky tonight. It would have been a lot worse for you if the Night Ranger, Calamity Jane and the Black Widow had been standing next to the Pale Rider listening to your line of bullshit, along with the six dogs.”

Uncle Danny looked to see the other three female scouts eyeing him intently. Lynn and Jane were stroking the big heads of the two black German Shepherds while the two dogs were also eyeing him intently. He quickly eased back into the black limousine to safety and slowly shut the double doors.

Walking across the Fontainebleau courtyard with Zak was Wiley, which made Amanda madder than she was. Ten young foot soldiers were walking behind Wiley and Zak, focusing their attention on their every move. On the extreme right of the group was Trevor with his head heavily bandaged and walking with an unsteady gait. Connie with a C was holding his right arm and another foot soldier was holding his left. Beside Connie with a C was Sandra with a thick white wrapping around her right arm. Walking beside her was a pretty, middle aged woman who was speaking with the new scout as they walked.

What caught all the scouts attention was the small figure walking on Zak’s left, holding his hand. The young boy was a small version of Francis and Little Jimbo. The young male child was dressed in black jeans, a black tee shirt, a black leather vest and was wearing a broad brim black leather hat riding low on his head. The young boy was also wearing black, high top hiking boots. It was little Zak.

“On my Lord! It’s little Zak dressed up like Jimbo and Francis! What is he doing here in this hell hole?” exclaimed Amanda.

Little Jimbo and Francis started to laugh softly.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he has some thin cigars stashed in that inner vest pocket!” chortled Little Jimbo.

Lynn was not laughing. She had instantly figured out why little Zak was walking beside big Zak. She knew at that moment that the long day was not over by any means. She moved to stand close to Francis so she could whisper in his ear.

“Baby, this is not good sign. Something is up tonight, especially after what Dan just informed us about. This is turning out to be one of Zak’s insane wing it plans and it is going to happen all in one night.”

Francis threw his thin cigar on the ground and put out the ember with his right foot. Then he wrapped his left arm around the love of his life and pulled her body close to his. He then whispered into her right ear.

“It doesn’t surprise me. I reckon we are about to find out. He’s looking right at us while Wiley is talking his ear off. Commander Trevor doesn’t look too sharp. When Zak gets over here do what you do well with the old man. Tee off on him. I will watch and enjoy the moment,” answered Francis.

Then the Reaper gave her a passionate kiss on her lips.

“This is what I live for,” he said after he broke the embrace.

“Can’t you two put the passion on the back burner?  Good grief! Wiley is probably bending Zak’s ear telling Zak he is now Commander Wiley of Sin City prison! You are gonna’ have to have a little talk with your childhood friend Francis! You need to tell him this ain’t one of those whore houses in Nevada! Going around telling all these young girls that he is mister big won’t get him laid anytime soon!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I don’t know Amanda! After this night is over the man from Florida might be pretty busy…if he survives. Wiley is doing fine Amanda. He has just been having a little fun today,” answered Francis while pulling out one of his thin cigars from one of his vest pockets.

“I am glad somebody is enjoying this ride,” said Calamity Jane.

Zak’s group made its way across the courtyard to the temporary stable to stand in front of the Reaper Crew.

“My favorite squadron of scouts! Damn, look at all of you! Looks like you guys have been in a bad ass fight in a bounty hunter’s bar in some remote area in Nevada! What happened to you Night Ranger? Did you finally up and knock the crap out of Francis and hurt your left hand?” asked Zak looking at her bandaged left hand.

“You might say that old man. You just need to remember that there is nothing wrong with my right hand and that is my gun hand,” retorted Lynn.

Big Zak laughed and focused his attention on Little Jimbo.

“And what happened to you Little Jimbo? Did Amanda finally follow through on one of her threats and shoot you in the leg? Did she catch you peeking at one of Commander Wiley’s foot soldiers?” asked Zak with a big grin on his face.

No one laughed at Zak’s comment about Little Jimbo. Everyone started to eyeball the Pale Rider, knowing that of all the scouts present she would be the one most likely to shoot Zak.

Little Jimbo used his wits…quickly.

“No, if she had caught me doing that I would probably be wearing a big, and I mean big, bandage on my privates.”

At first no one said a word, then Calamity Jane and Emily started to laugh along with Ringo. Soon, everyone was laughing including the old man.

“That was pretty funny Little Jimbo!” exclaimed the old man.

“Why is the kid here Zak?” asked Francis after the laughter died down.

“He forced me to bring him here with my helicopter attack squadron from Fort Schultz. I had no choice.”

Little Zak was standing by the old man with a grin spread across his young face.

“What do you mean you had no choice? He is a little kid! You should have given him some of Doc’s peanut butter cookies, read him a quick bedtime story and tucked him in for the night before you came here!” yelled Amanda.

“Uncle Zak couldn’t have done that! It was still daylight when we left so it wasn’t my bedtime!” exclaimed little Zak.

“How in the hell could a small child force you to bring him here to this dangerous place? Especially tonight Zak?” asked Lynn.

Big Zak placed his hands on his hips and looked at the ground before answering Lynn’s question. The old man was searching for answers to the question.

“Do you want me to tell them Uncle Zak? I think Amanda and Lynn will really like this story! I think they will tell it to a lot of scouts while sitting around a campfire!” exclaimed little Zak with a lot of enthusiasm.

Out of the crowd of foot soldiers in the Fontainebleau emerged Preacher Joe and Lydia. For descending seventy seven floors they didn’t seem to be too out of breath although both of their faces were slightly red.

The middle aged woman who was walking with Sandra burst from the group and embraced Lydia.

“Lydia! I saw you and Preacher Joe on the girder! I was scared that I was going to lose you both!” said the older woman.

“This…is …Sally…my…best…friend,” said Lydia while attempting to catch her breath after the quick descent from the top floor of the Fontainebleau.

“Relax honey. We can all get to know each other later,” said Sally looking around at the group of rough looking scouts.

“That was one hell of show you two put on tonight. It would have been a headline show in this town at one time,” said Amanda.

Preacher Joe looked at little Zak and then placed his hands on his knees, bending over before he spoke.

“What…is…little…Zak…doing…here?” said Preacher Joe slowly.

“Well, they didn’t look out of breath but after climbing down seventy seven floors I figured they might be!” added Amanda.

“They are out of breath because Uncle Zak told them to get here in fifteen minutes! Before that he told them to get here in ten!” interjected little Zak.

“Big mouth!” exclaimed the old man.

“Now that sounds like our fearless, out of shape leader!” said Amanda.

“So…someone…tell…me. Why…is…the…boy…here?” gasped Preacher Joe once again finally managing to stand erect.

“Uh, dear Uncle Zak told us that little Zak forced him to bring him here tonight. How he did that I haven’t a clue. Maybe little Zak has a little gun tucked away somewhere on his little body. I can’t make that old fart do anything that I want,” answered Lynn.

“Gee, Lynn, you just have to know how to deal with Uncle Zak. He is pretty easy to move, a lot easier than any FEMA guard but he is a lot sneakier than any guard that I have ever known,” said little Zak.

“Okay! I can’t stand it any longer! Tell us how you made a grown man three times your size that is as ornery as a coyote bring you here tonight little Zak!” said Calamity Jane.

“Are you going to tell them Uncle Zak?” asked the little man looking up at the leader of Free America in Nevada.

Zak had an exasperated look on his old weathered face. All of his scouts were looking at him intently, especially Lynn and Amanda, who had quizzical looks on their faces. Little Jimbo had a big grin on his, along with Ringo.

Big Zak sighed and threw up his arms while shaking his head.

“Why don’t you go ahead and tell them? That is all my scouts need is another damn campfire tale. You can’t wait to tell them anyhow!” exclaimed the old man.

Little Zak nodded his head and then turned to address his friends, the scouts.

“Me and Uncle Zak had an agreement that we shook hands on. You always need to have a handshake to seal an agreement. That’s important.”

“A lot of good that did me!” yelled the old man.

“Oh man, this is starting to get good, real good. So that is all you had to do to get him to bring you here in an attack helicopter, was get him to shake on it?” asked Amanda.

“Well…not exactly,” said little Zak with hesitation in his voice.

During the conversation Wiley, Trevor, the Dyke foot soldiers and the rest of the scouts from Free America circled the old man and little Zak so they could hear every word. It was noisy in the Fontainebleau courtyard with all the activity and nobody wanted to miss a single word.

“I knew it! What did you do, pull a gun on him or get one of Johnny’s German Shepherds to force him to uphold his agreement?” asked Calamity Jane who was now looking at the old man with disgust.

Zak was now looking down at the ground and seemed to be very uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. Zak snapped his head erect and spoke loudly in a defensive manner.

“That little shit is twelve going on twenty nine! I have never dealt with such a ruthless person when it come to making deals!” exclaimed the old man.

Lynn moved to stand in front of little Zak and knelt down, placing her uninjured right hand on his small shoulder.

“Don’t let him bully you Zak. Tell us the story and if I don’t like what I hear I will have Major and Sarge deal with Uncle Zak. Uncle Zak has played with those two German Shepherds before and I think he likes it.”

“Okay. The deal was Uncle Zak

wanted me to draw a map of the buildings where the kids slept with all the details like where the guards hung out, what times they patrolled, how many guards were on duty, sidewalks and stuff like that and in exchange he would bring me back here tonight to help get my friends out. When I got through he told me that it would be too dangerous for me to come here and that I had to stay at the Secondary Base. When I called him an asshole for reneging on the deal he sent me to the room where Ashley and Mary were resting. He told me to stay there.”

The scouts erupted with laughter.

“He did that? Well, thinking about it, Uncle Zak was just trying to protect you little Zak! Things have been rough here tonight,” replied Lynn while attempting to suppress her laughter.

“I have lived through rough nights at FEMA camp 37 for a long time. So what?”

Lynn looked over her shoulder at Francis for some help. Francis just shrugged his shoulders and stayed where he was at. The leader of the Reaper Crew offered no help.

“Okay, so why didn’t you stay in the room with Ashley and Mary?” continued Lynn.

“Uncle Zak is a sneaky man.”

“What have you done Zak? Have you threatened the boy?” yelled Amanda.

“No! He is a descendent of some pirate or conqueror! You can’t threaten someone who isn’t afraid of you! You can’t even strike a deal with him!”

“Why would you say something so mean?” asked Lynn glaring at the old man.

Zak was starting to get flustered.

“Why? Because when I went out to my helicopter to leave with my pilot, Harry informed me that someone had removed the ignition keys!” he yelled.

When Zak offered his explanation the scouts erupted with more laughter.

“So when you gave him the keys he finally brought you to Sin City!” said Amanda to little Zak.

Now the old man’s face was starting to turn red.

“Not…exactly,” said little Zak softly.

“Not…exactly?” asked Lynn now shooting bullets with her eyes at the old man.

“No. When I gave Uncle Zak the keys after shaking hands again he locked me in the room with the girls.”

“God! You make me so mad sometimes!” yelled Amanda while glaring at the old man.

The old man, for some reason only known to God, started to laugh.

“Go ahead you little bandit! Tell them the rest of the damn story!”

“He came back ten minutes later and unlocked the door. Then we came here.”

“I don’t understand,” said Lynn.

“That ain’t the whole story!” exclaimed the old man.

Little Zak looked up at big Zak and grinned.

“Why don’t you tell them the rest? It will be funnier that way Uncle Zak!”

Now the experienced scouts were totally confused.

“So you had a change of heart Uncle Zak?” asked Preacher Joe.

“Not…exactly. When I went out to my helicopter and handed the keys to Harry he almost ran the battery down trying to turn over the motor. When we got out of the chopper and lifted the engine compartment lid we saw that someone, I say someone, had managed to crawl under the lid and remove the main ignition wire. Let me see, I said to myself… that would have to be someone who wasn’t very big to pull off a nasty deed like that, like a small child or a very small thief.”

Now the Free America scouts were laughing hard.

“So what happened after that?” asked Lynn barely getting the words out.

“When I went back the room to get the little sneak he wouldn’t tell me a thing. I went off to the side of the helipad and started to kick some rocks, which I figured was better than kicking him. When I came back he had struck a deal with Big Jimbo. What it was I still don’t know. I got there just in time to see them shake hands. Big Jimbo placed little Zak in the back seat and strapped him in. In the process the little brat put a padlock on the seat belt and dropped the key down the front of his pants. That was when the little brat finally told me where the ignition cable was. That is why I was a little late getting here.”

When the laughter died down Lynn spoke.

“I have just one question old man. Where did he hide the ignition cable?”

“That is classified information. We both agreed that this information would never be divulged.”

“Where did you hide the cable little Zak?”

“Don’t you tell them a thing boy! We had an agreement!”

Little Zak let an evil grin creep across his young face.

“Yeah, but there is one problem Uncle Zak.”

“What problem is that boy?” roared the old man.

“We didn’t shake on it.”

* * * * *

Chapter Twenty Four

Dangerous Plans

Zak and his Free America scouts moved to where the horses and the bales of hay were located in the Fontainebleau courtyard to have an impromptu meeting. Most of the female scouts grabbed a bale of hay to use as a temporary stool and sat down. Francis moved two bales of hay from the big stack to form a chair so Lynn could lean back against the block of dried grass and relax for the moment. He could tell his woman was starting to get tired.

The old man removed a large folded piece of paper from the rear pocket in his jeans and spread the wrinkled document to lay flat on a stack of hay. He then placed another hay bale near the two he was using as a table and lifted little Zak to stand where he could see and place his hands on the surface of the piece of paper. No one knew exactly what the old man was up to.

The scouts that were standing, which were Amanda, Ringo, Wiley and Little Jimbo moved to where they could see what was going on. None of the other scouts moved from where they were sitting or standing, including Francis. The leader of the Reaper squad was leaning against one of the temporary wood walls in the stable, smoking one of his thin cigars and focusing his attention on the activity within the courtyard. The man in black was a good twenty feet away from Zak and his document but he was watching his scouts every now and then.

“This is the map that cost me a helicopter ride. Tell the scouts what you told me when you drew this map little Zak,” ordered the old man.

While Zak explained his map to the scouts, big Zak casually moved to where Francis was standing.

“I can tell from the way you are acting that something is bothering you. What’s wrong?” he asked.

Francis blew a smoke ring into the air and said nothing for a long moment, locking eyes with the old man.

“I didn’t hear you ask a single scout if they were ready to ride tonight. Everyone is tired after what has happened today, including me. Today has been a constant fight for survival…for everyone. I take it from your pushy attitude since you have arrived in that chopper that we have to make a run tonight to get the kids in the slave camp.”

“Well, hell yeah! That’s why everyone agreed to come to Sin City prison! Am I right?”

Francis sighed then shook his head.

“What kind of window are we dealing with old man?”

“It’s not even midnight Francis! The night is still young. Scott and I are planning to take out Nellis Air Force Base one hour before the sun comes up! That should give you more than four hours to come up with something!”

“What about the Hussein mounted patrol’s headquarters? And what about FEMA camp 37? Are you and Scott planning on taking out those installations too?”

“There is no one in FEMA camp 37. The only people that might be there tonight are a couple of security guards. All the construction people go home for the night!”

“Okay, I will give you that. What about the mounted patrol headquarters? There are more than a couple of security guards located in that big building.”

Zak paused before answering the Reaper’s question.

“I was hoping to take both buildings intact but if you want me to I can assign two of my attack helicopters sitting on the tarmac at McCarren to take care of the Hussein mounted patrol headquarters. Boom! All I need is a couple of hellfire missiles and no more building. I just thought it would be helpful to have that building intact to use in the future. It would be a nice building for our Free America scouts or whoever to use as a base, that’s all. I thought maybe I could get you and the Pale Rider to pay a visit to the Hussein mounted patrol headquarters leaving the rest of your crew along with the foot soldiers to move the kids out of the slave camp.”

“I know what you are asking when you say some of my crew. You are talking about my wife, Little Jimbo and my dogs so let’s quit beating around the bush. You just burned down one mile of the Las Vegas Strip and now you want to save one government building? Sometimes your logic short circuits Zak.”

“I was thinking more about what was inside that building young man. There must be one hell of armory somewhere in there and a lot of information, like plans for Nevada.”

Francis blew a smoke ring into the air.

“I reckon so.”

“So will you and whoever please take care of the Hussein mounted patrol building for Free America tonight?”

Francis paused before answering, sending his stare through the old man’s eyes.

“I reckon so.”

Zak grinned and then nodded his head. He returned to where little Zak was still explaining his map to Wiley and Lydia, mostly. Amanda and Little Jimbo had moved to sit on two bales of hay to rest their weary bodies. Finally little Zak hopped down off the bale of hay and moved to stand next to big Zak. The little man reached up to hold the old man’s right hand. Big Zak made no move to discourage him.

“This is a waste of time Zak! Everyone here knows you are itching to attack Nellis Air Force Base. Everyone here knows that to ride out to the secret tunnel and then back to the kid’s slave quarters is a three hour ride by itself. We don’t have the time to get the kids to safety,” said Amanda speaking as she would normally.

The Pale Rider was too tired to yell at the old man anymore tonight.

“Joe! Can you help me out here?” asked the old man.

Joe had finally caught his breath. He held up his brass crucifix.

“Ask and ye shall receive,” he said handing the cross to Zak.

“What is this?”

“It is the key to the gate in the wall on Interstate Fifteen.”

“The key to the secret tunnel is also the key to the big gate on Interstate Fifteen? What about the Boulder Highway gate and the gate where the food trains come through every week?” asked Lydia.

“The brass key works on any lock that the three nations installed in Sin City prison.”

“Wow! That is good to know!” exclaimed Lydia.

“How far away is the kid’s camp from the gate?” asked Little Jimbo.

“It’s a good two miles away. We will have to use the city streets to get back to Interstate Fifteen and to get there to save the kids. There is no telling who lives on those streets plus it will take us longer to use them because of the turns. It is not like a two mile ride in the mountains,” said Preacher Joe.

The scouts had uneasy looks on their faces. Some were shaking their heads no, including Ringo’s men.

“Why are we talking about getting my friends back here right away? Why don’t we use the deep ditch? That is just a hundred feet away,” asked little Zak.

“What is he talking about?” asked Preacher Joe.

“Out of the mouth of babes! That is an excellent idea!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I don’t see why not! It was good enough for Amanda six years ago along with Lynn three years later. It is long enough to hold a bunch of kids for the night safely. Hell, the old underground cave is probably still there. All we need to do is get some water and snacks down there until sometime tomorrow morning. The fight should be over by then. After the dust settles we could move them to Sin City in daylight and we certainly have a lot of help with the foot soldiers,” said big Zak.

“Don’t forget the toilet paper! We will need toilet paper!” exclaimed little Zak.

The scouts laughed long and hard.

“Damn! The boy sounds like he has been out on the trail before!” said Wiley.

“Okay, I think everyone knows what their assignments are. Commander Trevor, you need to get your foot soldiers organized for support missions. I am going to get on my notebook computer and get with Data and Scott. Everyone stay in touch. Let’s get moving,” ordered big Zak.

Little Zak released his grip on Zak’s right hand and moved over to stand next to Preacher Joe and Wiley.

Big Zak turned and spoke.

“What do you think you are doing little man?”

All of the adults paused to see what would happen next.

“I saw you talking with Francis so I know he is going to take care of the Hussein guard. That means Lynn will be going with him and probably Amanda with Little Jimbo. That means Preacher Joe, Wiley and the rest of the scouts will be the ones to get my friends. I am going with them.”

Big Zak paused for a moment as his face grew red.

“No you’re not! That is way too dangerous! You are staying with me to help man the command post! Quit wasting time and let’s get going!” yelled Zak.

Little Zak furrowed his brows and had a frown on his young face. He finally tipped the leather hat back on his head and spoke.

“Okay,” he simply said.

He walked over to Zak, grabbed his right hand and walked away with the leader of the Free America movement in Nevada.

“The little man didn’t look too happy about that,” said Little Jimbo.

“No, he didn’t but the slave camp is no place to be for a kid tonight,” agreed Calamity Jane rising from the bale of hay she had been sitting on.

The Night Ranger stood up and dusted off the fresh hay that was clinging to her riding leathers. All six of the dogs, who had been lying on the hay covered floor around her, also quickly jumped up to stand on their four paws, watching her every move.

“That may be true Janie. I just wish that rule applied to the kids who are asleep in the FEMA camp 37 slave compounds.”

The scouts moved to start saddling up their rides for the night. Looking at the two Zak’s walking across the courtyard the Night Ranger saw the smaller version looking over his shoulder at the scouts. When the young man saw the Night Ranger watching him walk away holding old Zak’s right hand he grinned and made a thumb’s up sign at his favorite female scout. Then he turned and continued to walk with the old man.

The Night Ranger smiled and thought nothing of it at the time.

* * * * *

Francis was sitting on Two next to Lynn who was sitting on Butch waiting for Little Jimbo along with Amanda to get their horses ready to go in the stable. The temporary stable in the Fontainebleau was a beehive of activity because of the impending departure of the Free America scouts. The word had spread about the effort to be made this night to save the children who were in the forced labor camp next to FEMA camp 37. As Lynn was surveying the courtyard there was a sudden flurry of activity at the entrance in the courtyard that led to the Las Vegas Strip. Lynn grinned when she saw the cause of the ruckus. Strolling across the vast courtyard leading a parade of young foot soldiers carrying long cardboard boxes with a wide grin on his bearded face was Doc. The old codger had a young woman latched onto each of his arms and he was walking as if he was a twenty year old man.

“Oh brother, do you see that perverted old man Wiley? That is exactly what you are going to look like one of these days if you don’t change your ways!” said Amanda, who was about to mount Spooky.

The Pale Rider froze in her tracks and elected to stand where she was at for the moment. She was curious to see why Doc had such a spring in his step. What amazed her far greater was that the old man had trimmed his wiry, unruly white beard. He looked presentable for once in his life. When Doc saw the Pale Rider standing on the hay covered floor beside Spooky and the Night Ranger mounted on Butch waiting beside her, the old man made a beeline to the two female scouts with his entourage of female foot soldiers in tow.

“Amanda! Look at what is coming around the corner of the Fontainebleau!” exclaimed Lynn.

Amanda turned to see Trevor leading forty or fifty Dyke foot soldiers, all dressed in black from head to toe.

“Damn Lynn! I didn’t know that the Dykes had Ninja warriors!” she said with a laugh.

“Actually, the girls are wearing their patrol outfits. They have even brought their black ski masks. You two do realize that those outfits make you invisible at night,” said Lydia who was sitting on her horse next to the Night Ranger.

“I reckon they do. Maybe that is why Preacher Joe, Little Jimbo and Francis always wear black clothes, even when it is a hundred degrees out in the bright Nevada sun,” answered Amanda.

Amanda seemed to be an extremely bad mood tonight.

“Amanda! Lynn! Hello Lydia! My favorite female scouts!” exclaimed Doc happily while the two foot soldiers continued to hold his arms.

“I thought you were on your way to the Secondary Base old man,” said Amanda.

“I was. My son sent a helicopter to retrieve me and the kids. He also turned Scott and his men around to head back to Sin City prison. We stopped at the Secondary Base long enough for me to get with the boys in the machine shop and to get Mary along with Ashley settled into their new quarters. As far as settling in little Zak that was near impossible. The young lad was all over the place. Him and Johnny were out riding on horses the first fifteen minutes we were there. The boy was driving my son crazy. I had forgotten how fast young ones can move.”

“So…you aren’t that scared of heights if you flew here, are you?” asked Lynn.

“I am scared of heights only when I am on a horse or wagon while crossing the Nightmare Trail, Night Ranger. Only on that trail,” answered Doc softly.

“So…why are you here Doc?” asked Amanda.

“Oh yes! I almost forget after meeting all my new girlfriends. Excuse me my lovelies, but I must release each of you now from my gentle grasp. I have something for Lynn and Amanda,” said the old man while removing the young foot soldiers hands from each of his arms.

“I have about reached my limit Lynn. First it was Trevor, then Wiley and now this crazy old man. My list of things to do before I leave this place is growing longer with each passing hour,” said Amanda while reaching for her special piece of paper and searching for a pencil in her pockets.

Lynn grinned but said nothing.

“Now, now, Amanda, I just flew two hundred and fifty miles to bring you and Lynn a special gift. Of all the scouts that I know, I know you two will really like these gifts. Actually, me and the boys only had time to make fifty two of these gifts but I am giving you the first one off the manufacturing line and you the second Lynn. Could you please hand me that box, uh, uh…”

“My name is Connie,” answered the young woman.

This was a different Connie.

“Good lord Lydia! How many damn Connies are in this place?” asked Amanda.

“There are quite a few. I guess it was a popular name twenty years ago.”

The pretty foot soldier handed the box she was carrying to the old man and then planted a kiss on his left cheek.

“I really like this place,” said Doc with a grin on his face while opening the cardboard box.

The old man then removed two black pneumatic bows from the interior of the box. Only these bows were much different from what the Dykes used. The bows were much shorter in length and much thinner than the ones built with PVC pipe.

“Is that a pneumatic bow?” asked Lydia.

The young foot soldiers standing near Doc began to applaud and squeal with delight. The old man was eating up the attention.

At the same moment Trevor arrived with his black clad foot soldiers.

“I was wondering if you were going to get here in time Doc. Are those my new air bows?” he asked.

Amanda walked the ten feet across the hay covered floor to where Doc was standing and snatched the bow out of Doc’s hands. Then she grabbed the second bow out of the box and tossed it to the Night Ranger still sitting on her horse.

“These two aren’t yours, mister riding high in the saddle Commander Trevor! These two belong to the scouts of Free America!”

Francis and Jimbo had been watching the entire show sitting on their horses ten feet away patiently waiting. Wiley was on the ground with Sandra, Calamity Jane and Emily. All were getting worried that the Pale Rider was getting to be a problem. Sensing the scout’s uneasiness the Night Ranger once again took control.

“Damn it Amanda! What in the hell has gotten into you today? Is it that time of the month? Damn! Thanks for the bows Doc. They look pretty good although they are much heavy than a regular pneumatic bow. While you are here maybe you should check out Amanda, see if she is okay, you know, physically. She has been a bad mood all day.”

“She’s okay,” said Little Jimbo softly.

Amanda mounted Spooky and glared at Little Jimbo but said nothing. Lynn sensed something wasn’t quite right so she pressed on with her line of questioning.

“How do you know that? Why did you just say that Little Jimbo? I have ridden with the both of you a hundred times and I have never seen Amanda this bitchy.”

“She’s mad because we are late,” said Little Jimbo while looking at the love of his life, Amanda. Amanda wasn’t making eye contact with Little Jimbo, which was unusual for her. Amanda always made eye contact with everyone she spoke with, especially Little Jimbo.

“We ain’t late! What in the hell are you talking about Little Jimbo? We ain’t on any timetable for this fucked up operation!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

Little Jimbo squirmed in his saddle attempting to make eye contact with Amanda but the Pale Rider continued to look straight ahead, ignoring his attempts.

“I wasn’t talking about that kind of late Janie. I am talking about two months worth of being late,” said Little Jimbo softly.

There was silence for a long moment as every one focused their attention on the Pale Rider sitting on Spooky. The Night Ranger noticed a tear was streaming down the right side of her face. She leaned off of Butch and hugged Amanda.

“That’s pretty late but that’s the best news I have heard in a long time my friend.”

The female scouts moved to congratulate the Pale Rider while the male scouts moved to shake hands with Little Jimbo. Francis was handing out thin cigars to not only the male scouts but also to some of the female foot soldiers.

Doc moved to stand by Spooky.

“So the Pale Rider might become a mommy. That is some incredible news! When you get back this morning I have a test kit in my medical bag. I will let you know how far along you are young lady.”

The Pale Rider looked at the old man and leaned off of Spooky to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Well, at least one of your goals in life will be fulfilled soon old man,” said Amanda.

“What’s that Amanda?” asked Doc.

“To get me nikked at least one time in your sorry ass life.”

Doc laughed heartily.

“Oh my lovely young scout. It will be far more than one time.”

Doc’s comment brought laughter to all the scouts present.

“All right! The party’s over! We need to get moving!” yelled Francis.

As Lynn, Amanda, Francis and Little Jimbo headed out of the courtyard on their rides Doc spoke out.

“Wait! Wait! Don’t forget the arrows!”

The old man grabbed a box from one of the foot soldiers and ambled over to the four departing scouts.

“This box has the arrows and six CO2 cartridges. The arrows are in racks of ten and they are much shorter than the arrows the Dykes use. They are fourteen inches in length and made from solid aluminum. They pack a punch when they connect but not as much as the two special racks of arrows I made for you and the Night Ranger, Amanda.”

“What is so special about those arrows Doc?” asked Lynn.

“They are filled with Semtex instead of aluminum. The arrowheads are the detonators. You have to twist the arrowhead counter clockwise a half turn to activate the detonator before you fire. Whatever you fire on and hit will blow up. Boom! Big explosion! Data and his boys at the base tested them several times. They fly and work well.”

“I like what I am hearing Doc! You even have custom holsters to hang on the saddle!” added Lynn.

“I figured you two of all scouts would like the weapon.”

As Amanda and Lynn fastened the new weapon to their saddles Wiley rode up beside them. The new scout was sitting on a big white mare that resembled Spooky, only a smaller version.

When Amanda saw Wiley on his new horse her jaw dropped open.

“How do you like this horse Amanda? It was one of the new ones that Johnny sent and she is one healthy animal! When I grow up I want to be just like the Pale Rider! I thought I would ride along with Francis to show him where I hid the poison pipe bomb on the street to the east. It will save you some time. Is that okay with you Francis?” asked Wiley.

Francis was eyeing Amanda intently. He wasn’t sure how the Pale Rider would react to Wiley riding a horse resembling her white stallion, especially now that Francis knew she was pregnant. Amanda was glaring at Wiley but said nothing. Francis waited for a long twenty seconds and then answered once he was sure Amanda wasn’t going to do anything radical, like shooting Wiley.

“Sure Wiley.  We need anything to save us some time so we can get going and get this show on the road. Jimbo, go and see if Ringo and his boys are ready to ride. Lynn and I will meet you at the Interstate Fifteen gate in ten minutes.”

Then the Reaper with Wiley tagging along on his new white horse exited the courtyard.

Wiley impishly tipped his hat at Amanda when he rode by her and Spooky but said nothing.

“I can’t believe he went and grabbed that white mare. He doesn’t know what he is doing, the fool,” said Amanda.

“I gotta’ go Amanda. I will meet you at the gate,” said Lynn, just wanting to get away.

The Night Ranger lifted the silent whistle that she always possessed hanging around her neck and blew on it using a pattern. The four German Shepherds and the two small terriers left the stable area and fell in beside her and her horse Butch.

“So are we are taking all six dogs on this ride?” asked Amanda.

“We are gonna’ need them. Later,” answered Lynn spurring Butch.

Little Jimbo ambled up on his horse to sit next to Amanda.

“What is with that Jimbo? That crazy bastard went and changed horses in midstream. And he grabbed that white mare to boot!”

“Yeah, I know. He came up to me and asked me to take a look at the mare. She is one healthy horse. She would make a good breeding partner for Spooky one of these days.”

Amanda glared at Little Jimbo.

“I can assure you that will never happen, not with my Spooky. Besides, if he runs around the west on that horse for any length of time I won’t have to shoot him tonight. Somebody else will do that.  One of these days, a bounty hunter or some government shit head will be after some serious reward money.”

The feisty blonde spurred her big white stallion and headed out of the Fontainebleau Tower using the same gate Lynn, Francis and the dogs had used.

As Jimbo was about to spur his horse to leave he heard someone shouting out his name. He turned in his saddle to see Trevor hustling across the courtyard in his direction. Behind him were forty or fifty young women clad in black running behind him. Trevor stopped beside Jimbo’s horse.

“I was hoping to get to the Reaper Crew in time. Here! This is a two way communications device that is set on its own wavelength. We found a box with twenty of them so I figured we all better stay in touch tonight. I gave one to Wiley, Calamity Jane and Emily. I missed the Night Ranger, Amanda and Francis. Ringo has one too.”

Little Jimbo grinned.

“Well, hell, as long as Commander Wiley has one out in the field I don’t think I will need one Trev.”

“Aw come on Jimbo! Take the damn radio and quit giving me a hard time right now. You ain’t going to the same place Wiley is going.”

Jimbo took the small transmitter and slipped it in his vest pocket.

“Thanks Commander Trevor!” exclaimed Little Jimbo while eyeing the smiling faces of the numerous black clad foot soldiers standing behind Trevor.

“Its gonna’ be a crazy night Jimbo and everyone is tired. I am sending these fifty archers to go with Wiley, Preacher Joe, Janie, Sandra, Lydia and Emily to get the kids out of the buildings as quickly and as silently as possible. I have sent another two thousand foot soldiers to the escape ravine. They have already left through the gate on the interstate and should be down in the ditch in another thirty minutes. I sure hope big Zak has his ducks in a row.”

“Where is big Zak?” asked Little Jimbo.

“He has a radio too. He is out at the interstate access entrance waiting on everyone. You will see him when you go through the big gate in the wall. Good luck Jimbo!” said Trevor offering his hand.

Little Jimbo shook the young man’s hand and suddenly realized that he was witnessing another transformation that a person undergoes in life, just like the night the Pale Rider became the Pale Rider.

Trevor was now, by any definition, Commander Trevor of the Dykes.

“I will see you later on this morning Trev. Just keep doing what you are doing Commander Trevor!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

To put emphasis on the moment Little Jimbo saluted Trevor. Trevor didn’t salute back but his fifty archers standing behind him did. Little Jimbo nodded at the ladies and spurred his horse.

As Little Jimbo moved to the gate he saw the fifty black clad foot soldiers start opening the boxes Doc had brought and each placing the new, black compound bows in the holsters on their backs.

“This is gonna’ be a night we all are going to remember,” he muttered.

* * * * *

Francis and Lynn were waiting for Amanda and Little Jimbo at the big gate on Interstate Fifteen. Big and little Zak was standing beside the big wall also. For the last five minutes there had been a steady stream of black clad Dyke foot soldiers streaming through the big gate on bicycles headed north.

“I wonder how many of them will return after getting their first taste of freedom?” asked Zak.

Lynn watched the bicycle riders exit the Charleston Street exit ramp, the ramp that led to FEMA Camp 37 and the children’s slave camp.

“I don’t think any of them will run Zak. Where would they go? We are out in the middle of the Mojave Desert that is full of hostiles and this place has been their home for the past five or six years and in some cases longer than that,” said Lynn.

“Yeah, you are probably right. If everything goes well we shouldn’t lose too many soldiers tonight.”

The old man started to laugh when he saw two of the foot soldiers on bicycles cruise through the high gate with two plastic wrapped bundles of toilet paper strapped on their backs. Every bicycle rider had two or three bottles of water fastened to their handle bars and some had plastic bags filled with treats dangling too.

“What do you think are in the bags?” asked Francis with a grin.

“I know what! They have candy bars and lollipops in the bags. I told Commander Trevor to spread the word about candy bars. That is what I liked a lot when I met you guys,” said little Zak.

“Is that all you liked? Candy bars?” asked Zak gruffly.

Little Zak hugged the old weathered scout’s right arm.

“No. I liked all of you because you were so nice to me, Ashley and Mary. And I liked the dogs too!”

Little Zak knelt down and started to pet the terriers along with the big dogs.  The little man reached into his right pocket and pulled out a handful of dog biscuits.

“I know about dog protocol and I know that a good scout should always have dog biscuits if they have dogs. Johnny at the base told me that,” he said with elation, feeding the two alpha males dog biscuits first.

Lynn and Francis grinned while big Zak shook his head with a slight grin on his face.

While little Zak was playing with the dogs Amanda and Little Jimbo rode up the access ramp onto the interstate. They both stopped to pause with Lynn and the Reaper.

“Ringo and his boys will be here soon,” said Little Jimbo.

Then he pulled out the radio Trevor had given him, grinned at Francis and communicated with Ringo.

“Ringo, where you be?” he asked.

“You are supposed to say over and out when you are finished speaking Jimbo,” said Amanda.

“Nag, nag, nag. It sounds like to me you might be preggers,” replied Little Jimbo.

“I am coming down Charleston, Little Jimbo. I will be there in ten more minutes. Over and out,” was the tinny response over the radio’s speaker.

Everyone could hear the response on Zak’s radio too.

“This is so cool. We can make vulgar comments about Zak anytime and not have to look at him,” said Little Jimbo, handing Amanda the small transmitter.

Amanda gladly took the small device and placed it in her vest pocket, then grinned at the old man.

“I kind of like this little device Zak,” she said happily.

“I reckon so. That was the first time that I have ever seen you grin,” replied big Zak.

The lines of bicycle riders continued to stream through the north gate.

“I know you set the Strip on fire tonight Zak but what is that acrid, smoky smell?” asked Lynn.

“Commander Trevor is turning out to be a pretty good commander. He has sent a ton of foot soldiers down the Strip with five gallon cans of diesel fuel siphoned from our trucks to stack and burn the bodies of the dead inmates. I reckon they are also executing the ones that are still alive as they go. That black smoke you see rising in the air is because of burning, organic material, or in other words, bodies burning. That is never a pleasant smell.”

The scouts turned to see many columns of thick black smoke rising in the moonlight sky from the general area of the Strip. The stiff wind from the south was pushing the heavy smoke north in their direction. The smell was overwhelming.

Finally Ringo and his twenty nine scouts were riding up the entrance ramp while the lines of foot soldiers on bicycles continued to filter out to freedom.

Ringo nodded his head at Francis not uttering a word.

“We are leaving Zak. Just make sure these big gates stay open tonight,” said Francis.

“Why?” asked Zak.

“There has been a slight change of plans, old man. We will be moving two or three thousand horses through this gate in an hour or so,” answered Francis softly with his gruff voice.

“What?” yelled big Zak.

“You heard me. Little Jimbo says he ain’t gonna’ be a part of killing thousands of horses and I need Jimbo’s help tonight. That’s why we have Ringo’s boys with us too. All we have to do is turn the horses down that road named Lake Mead Boulevard and then turn them up the entrance ramp on Interstate Fifteen. Easy enough,” said Francis.

Old Zak removed his hat and threw it on the concrete surface of Interstate Fifteen, stomping it several times with his right foot while moving counter clockwise. Little Zak immediately copied the old man’s behavior and the scouts started to laugh.

“It’s not funny! Do any of you realize how many horses are in the corral to the west of the Hussein mounted patrol’s headquarters?” roared old Zak.

Amanda looked at Lynn with a grin and Lynn was laughing. Amanda nodded her head at Lynn. The two women welcomed any opportunity to get the old man upset.

“I don’t know Zak. Why don’t you tell me? We must have killed four hundred horses the past two days on the Las Vegas Trail so I figure the eighty thousand plus foreigners at their headquarters had maybe what?  Forty? Fifty horses left? Then I just heard my husband who is obviously been in collusion with you without consulting me and Amanda tell you something about thousands of horses? What the fuck? How many horses are at the corral guys?” asked the Night Ranger flashing her pretty smile while turning to look at Little Jimbo and Francis.

Little Jimbo and Francis knew to say nothing. The two male scouts just looked aimlessly at the stars hanging in the dark sky. This verbal battle was between the old man and the two female scouts, which was nothing new.

The Night Ranger knew roughly how many horses were at the corral but she, like Amanda, would do just about anything to get the old man going.

“Dammit Lynn! This is no time for this crew to be playing John Wayne like in an old west movie! There are thousands of horses in that corral! Just kill them along with the foreigners in the headquarters with your poison and play it safe! Free America has plenty of horses!”

“No! We ain’t doing that anymore! Just tend to your business and we will take care of ours!” yelled Little Jimbo.

Little Jimbo was known to be passionate about horses and he was now showing his passion. Little Jimbo’s outburst surprised the three scouts that he knew best. Usually Little Jimbo never lost his cool.

“You don’t have enough men to herd those horses! Once they start stampeding they could go anywhere!” replied Zak strongly.

“We have it figured out old man. We have things called shepherds and they are damn good at doing that. You just keep this gate open,” replied Francis while smoking one of his thin cigars.

The leader of the Reaper Crew had his steel gaze focused on the old man less than ten feet away.

“I can’t guarantee that!” exclaimed Zak.

“Amanda?” said Francis.

“Little Jimbo, I need your duct tape!” said the Pale Rider.

Little Jimbo fumbled about in one of his rear saddle bags and finally handed a well used roll of duct tape to Amanda.

The Pale Rider removed one of large pipe bombs from one of her saddle bags and moved Spooky to be nearby the left iron door that guarded the Interstate Fifteen access opening.

Standing in her stirrups she taped the large black pipe bomb to the edge of the iron door. Then she pushed a red button on the side of the bomb and settled back into her saddle.

Moving Spooky to where she was right next to the old man she looked down at him.

“If that door moves one inch, and I mean one inch, there will be no door,” she said with a serious look on her face.

“What?” roared the old man.

“You heard her Zak. These doors stay open tonight. I suggest you get a hold of Commander Trevor and have the foot soldiers build a barricade across the south and north bound lanes to get those horses moving down the off ramp. Get them some flashlights and torches too. That will get the horses moving down the off ramp,” said Francis.

“A barricade would be good but me and my men will lead the horses down the off ramp Francis. Once you get the lead horses steered in the right direction the rest of the herd will follow. We just need to time it right,” said Ringo.

Francis nodded his head at the half breed.

“Okay Ringo, it sounds good to me. Let’s get moving,” he ordered.

Francis and Lynn spurred their horses and headed north on Interstate Fifteen. The six dogs bolted ahead of them while the Pale Rider and Ringo with his men followed. Little Jimbo paused to stop next to Zak.

“It’s okay Zak. I apologize for Amanda. She is in a bad mood and she is late.”

“She is late?” asked Zak.

“She is real late and when she is late she gets in a bad mood. Her bad mood won’t last long. Give Doc a call. He will explain everything,” said Little Jimbo as he spurred his horse to gallop off down the highway.

Little Zak tugged on big Zak’s shirt sleeve.

“What do you want little Zak?” asked the old man softly.

“Are you mad at my friends?”

The old man knelt down to where he could face little Zak man to man.

“No. I am not mad. They are my best friends. I just put on act for them every now and then to keep them honest. I love every one of them as if they were my own kids.”

“Am I one of your kids?”

Zak looked into the little man’s eyes and gave him a firm hug.

“Yeah, you are one of my kids but you are beginning to act like those big kids of mine on those horses. This time around I am going to be hard on you, so listen to what I say.”

“Did Amanda really put a bomb up on that door?” asked little Zak.

The old man looked at the blinking LED light on the iron door.

“Do you think Amanda would do something like that?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think she loves you too much,” replied little Zak.

Big Zak moved to stand underneath the pipe bomb. He paused to look at little Zak for a brief moment.

“I think she loves me too,” he said as he reached up and ripped the bomb along with the duct tape off the door.

The old man breathed a big sigh of relief and then tossed the blinking pipe bomb off the interstate.

“You are going to keep the doors open for the horses aren’t you big Zak?”

Both Zaks turned and silently watched as the Reaper Crew and Ringo’s men disappeared into the night heading north on Interstate Fifteen riding into danger.

Big Zak bent down hugged the little man once again and whispered in his ear.

“Don’t worry little Zak.  Those doors will stay open until hell freezes over. You know that is what I would do. But don’t tell anyone.”

* * * * *

Chapter Twenty Five

Stampede

Wiley was impatiently waiting on his new white mare at the massive reinforced Interstate Fifteen gate and for the arrival of his younger brother Commander Trevor and his fifty archers. He was also waiting for the remaining scouts from the Reaper Crew that were to go with the Dykes to the children’s slave camp. They were the ones that were crucial for his next assignment.

The first scouts to arrive easing up the on ramp were Calamity Jane and Emily. Preacher Joe, Lydia and Sandra were also making their way up the entrance ramp on their horses slowly moving fifty yards behind.

The two female scouts wasted no time in verbally assaulting the young man who had defected to join the Free America movement. They were still angry at how he had deceived the Dyke foot soldiers.

“What in the hell are you doing on that white horse Commander Wiley? Do you have a death wish?” asked Calamity Jane, looking at the young scout and intermittently at the old man and little Zak who were standing next to the large double doors on Interstate Fifteen.

“This is my new horse Janie. Little Jimbo himself said this is one fine animal. Isn’t she pretty?” replied Wiley attempting to needle Calamity Jane.

“I imagine that is so but what drugs have you been smoking? Didn’t Amanda say anything to you about riding that mare?” she shot back.

“Like what? What is wrong with riding a pretty white mare?”

“Well, one thing comes to mind right away!  There is a five hundred million government credit reward on the white horse Amanda rides, dead or alive. The government goons don’t have a picture of the Pale Rider. They don’t know if the scout who rides that horse is a male or female. Why do you think Johnny sent that horse to the Dykes? It wasn’t meant to ridden by any damn scout!  I don’t know of any scout who has selected a white horse to ride during the past four years because of Spooky and the reward. The Valley of Freedom is full of white mares and studs that have been donated by Nevada farmers because the government was going around killing every white horse they could lay their hands on! Between the white horse and the rider every bounty hunter in the west is chomping at the bit to reap the one billion government credits for the horse and the rider. You should go change horses you stupid jerk!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

“No! I like this horse and she likes me!” answered Wiley.

“Okay! Suit yourself. Zak, you need to have a talk with the crazy man,” railed Calamity Jane.

Zak moved to where Wiley was resting on his horse and grabbed the mare’s reins.

“Son, did you ever think about what you might be getting into? Every damn foreign bounty hunter employed by the government and every damn American traitor running loose in the west claiming to be a government bounty hunter will be drooling once they see you on this horse. Especially when they see you are dressed like a scout. You won’t be able to go into any small town bar without looking over your shoulder.”

“Well, no, I didn’t think about that. I just wanted to piss off Amanda a little bit. Plus, I liked this horse especially her name!”

“What is the name of the horse?” asked Preacher Joe who had arrived and was on his horse nearby.

“I saw a tattoo on its rump that said Ghost. There was a big J under the name so I reckon that is what Johnny named her. The name fits her well.”

Big Zak moved to look on the horse’s right rump. In plain view in blue ink was a tattoo that read Ghost.

“Yes, that is her name. It fits her. That is Johnny’s J.”

“Zak, he needs to go change horses!” exclaimed Calamity Jane once again.

Zak looked at Wiley for a moment and saw determination written all over his face. Arguing with Lynn and Amanda had tired the old man this night.

“No, Janie, if he wants to ride Ghost he can ride Ghost. You have some big and dangerous shoes to fill youngster. You better stay alert at all times.”

“I have it covered. Where in the hell is Trevor?” asked Wiley.

“You mean Commander Trevor. He is on the way,” laughed Zak.

Three minutes later Commander Trevor made his way up the entrance ramp to the interstate riding a bicycle, followed by fifty black clad foot soldiers also on bicycles. All of the foot soldiers were sporting new black pneumatic bows holstered on their backs.

Trevor stopped his bike by Zak and propped it up on the concrete pavement.

“Shouldn’t you be resting or at least sitting down somewhere and using that radio? Riding around on a bicycle in the dark with your head wrapped in a big bandage doesn’t seem smart to me,” said Emily.

“I am fine and I have things to do right now. I took one of Doc’s pills so at least I don’t have a headache anymore. Whatever it is it works pretty well,” replied Trevor.

“You took one of Doc’s pills? Hell yeah! I bet you don’t have a headache anymore! Do you know what city you are in and what year it is?” asked Calamity Jane.

“That is pretty funny Janie. I ain’t in any city. This is a prison, at least for tonight but it won’t be for long. Our soldiers are all ready to go and serve under your command…Commander Wiley.”

Calamity Jane shook her head to and fro while Preacher Joe laughed along with Lydia and Sandra. The foot soldiers on the bikes saluted Commander Wiley.

“You have explained to your soldiers what to do for this operation Commander Trevor?” asked Zak.

Zak wasn’t making fun of the young man. He was dead serious.

“My foot soldiers know this might be a one way trip and they are ready to perform at their highest level. The captains in charge have assured me that. Once the kids are out of the portables my archers will fall back to the escape ravine and wait the night out until it is time for the children to be moved. I should have two thousand foot soldiers in the escape ravine by now. There may be more than that but at least there will be two thousand.”

“Good man,” said Zak resting his right hand on the young commander’s left shoulder.

“The foot soldier who will answer to your orders is Connie with a C, Wiley. She was the one who fought with me on the catwalk and she is one of my captains. The three archers that were injured in the battle on the Strip at the steel wall have been replaced. All of them have Doc’s new bow and are ready to go. I have to get back to my command post. I have ten thousand foot soldiers mopping up the dead bodies on the Strip and killing stragglers from the male gangs tonight. We are gonna’ drive them all the way to Flamingo Road. Then we will continue the attack when it is light.”

Wiley felt a tinge of pride and a tinge of feeling odd, listening to his younger brother fire out commands as if he had been doing it his entire life. He had never seen his younger brother act so serious, especially when females were present.

Trevor mounted his bicycle, turned around and headed down the on ramp at Interstate Fifteen. Before he left he stopped and saluted his older brother and then continued solo on his way.

Zak watched the young man cruise down the ramp alone. Then he sighed.

“I know that dreadful feeling.”

“What feeling is that Uncle Zak?” asked Preacher Joe.

“The feeling called the burden of command, my young nephew, the burden of command. It is a heavy load most of the time.”

Commander Wiley assumed his role.

“All right! Let’s get moving soldiers! We should get to the portable buildings in thirty minutes. Remember to park all of the bikes at the vacant lot a quarter of a mile away! We will go on foot from there!”

As Wiley turned his horse everyone stopped to watch a black stretch limousine barrel up the entrance ramp at a high rate of speed. The vehicle stopped twenty feet away screeching its tires. The driver’s door opened and Uncle Danny stepped out. He was carrying an AK47 in his hands and was wearing camouflage clothing. Uncle Danny was dressed to fight.

“You didn’t think I was gonna’ let you have all the fun did you brother?” he asked while looking at Zak.

“What are you doing here Danny?” asked Zak.

“You never know when you might need a fast set of wheels when you are in Las Vegas. This big vehicle might come in handy tonight and the gas tank is full. It is the only thing that doesn’t need oats or dog food to move in this county. I was planning on following behind Preacher Joe and park the rig wherever he deemed for me to park.”

Preacher Joe looked at his Uncle Zak and nodded his head.

“You never know if we might need something faster than a horse to get back to the clubhouse or use the Interstate, Uncle Zak. The stretch limousine would make a hell of a temporary ambulance if we need one. It is better than a horse and wagon.”

Zak looked at Uncle Danny and then looked at the big black stretch limousine.

“All right, you can hang around and go with Joe tonight but try to stay out of the way. I don’t need you being shot tonight,” said big Zak.

“That is a cool car Uncle Zak! Can I look inside? Please?” asked little Zak while eyeing the black car.

“No. You stay right here young man. Okay, go ahead and take the limo off the interstate ramp and go to the vacant lot and wait but kill your lights.”

“That won’t be necessary brother. I have night vision goggles and lights that can’t be seen by human eyes! Remember?”

“Yeah I remember. Go!” answered Zak.

While big Zak was busy with the new arrivals little Zak was eyeing the limo intently. The little man quickly noticed that none of the doors on the stretch limousine were locked.

* * * * *

It took Francis and his three associates, along with the dog pack, thirty minutes to navigate unseen through the streets in the adjacent neighborhood directly across the street from the Hussein mounted patrol’s headquarters in North Las Vegas. The neighborhood had been vacated years ago because of the economic collapse. There were no lights in or on any of the dilapidated houses. The scouts had dropped off Ringo and his men at the entrance ramp to Interstate Fifteen at Lake Mead Boulevard earlier. Ringo and his brave men were waiting on the herd from hell that would be barreling down the boulevard soon.

The four scouts were sitting on their horses one hundred yards away from the main entrance to the mounted patrol’s headquarters hidden behind a thick hedge row that was still green and growing underneath one of the rare big trees to be found in Las Vegas. The shade from the tree had been the hedge row’s salvation over the years. The moon was nearly full tonight and the air was warm. The breeze was still blowing stiffly from the south gusting to twenty miles per hour on occasion and there was a tremendous amount of smoke in the air caused primarily by the fires that were still raging on the Strip two to three miles to the south. It was a smoky and hazy night.

“I see two guards inside the entrance appearing every now and then but I don’t see any shit heads patrolling outside. I guess they feel safe,” said Amanda.

“That is probably because of all the smoke in the air. You would think they would have more people on alert tonight because of all the explosions that happened in Sin City prison,” said Lynn.

“No, they probably just think that the natives in Sin City prison are a little bit more restless than usual. The federal government and their hired goons could care less about the inmates in Sin City prison,” added Little Jimbo.

“I can see the horse corral and the stables. That is one big building and that field has to be one hundred acres or larger in size. It looks to be half full of horses. How many horses do you think are in that corral Francis?”

Francis gazed at the corral for a minute.

“Well?” asked Amanda.

“Give me a few seconds. I am counting.”

The three scouts sitting to his left laughed softly.

“I reckon there are over two thousand. There are a lot of horses that I can see and there is no telling how many might be under that big roof. Are we gonna’ get those too Jimbo?”

“I would like to. That is a skinny wooden gate they have across the opening, probably because it is warm tonight. So the main stable is not secure. That is good for us. I see two big gates on the south side of the corral facing us. All I have to do is unlatch those and the dogs can do the rest. The trick is once we get them moving we need to turn them to the west down Lake Mead Boulevard. The dogs will be pushing them from the rear but someone needs to get to the front and steer the lead horses in that direction or we will have horses running everywhere in the neighborhood behind us. We need to keep the herd a herd. We need a shepherd at the front of the herd.”

Lynn, Francis and Little Jimbo turned in their saddles and looked at Amanda.

“Me? I have never herded anything in my life…except Little Jimbo.”

“That is good enough for me. You are the one riding the big white stallion. He is faster than our horses and he stands out like a beacon of white light on a dark night. Take Little Jimbo’s big flashlight and wait on the street until the horses are coming in your direction. Then take that flashlight with Spooky and run at the lead horses from the right. That should make the lead horses turn on Lake Mead. Once you get the lead horses turned use Spooky’s speed to take over the herd. Then when you get to Ringo head up the ramp and pull off to the side. Ringo and his men will do the rest. The lead horses will continue to be pushed by the herd and my dogs. It shouldn’t be too difficult as long as you don’t fall off Spooky,” said Lynn.

Amanda looked at the horses in the corral and then turned to Little Jimbo.

“Give me the damn flashlight! You are gonna’ owe me big time after this Little Jimbo! Horses, horses, horses! That’s all I ever hear! All you need is one, not a thousand Little Jimbo!”

Little Jimbo fumbled around in his left saddlebag and handed his five cell flashlight to Amanda.

“I love you honey,” he said grinning.

“All right, now that we have that settled someone is gonna’ have to place the three pipe bombs at the front of the building and someone is gonna’ have to take care of the two men in that guard shack at the entrance to the stable,” said Lynn.

Lynn, Amanda and Little Jimbo turned in their saddles and looked at Francis.

“Why is everyone looking at me?”

“You are the one dressed in black. You heard the Dykes earlier tonight. When you are dressed in black you are invisible when it is night,” answered Lynn.

“Little Jimbo is dressed in black!”

“Yes, but Little Jimbo is going with me and the mutts to start the stampede,” said Lynn.

“Boy, you are a bossy woman sometimes! Give me the damn bombs.”

Amanda and Little Jimbo handed the pipe bombs to the man in black.

“What are you going to do honey?” asked Lynn.

“Yeah, what are you going to do honey?” echoed Amanda.

“Yeah, what are…”

“Shut up Jimbo! I reckon I will sneak down the rock fence on the left and move in from there. Somebody will need to cover me in case something goes haywire.”

“That’s it? Your plan is to walk beside the rock wall for one hundred feet and stroll up to the main entrance and plant the bombs?” asked Amanda.

“No. I am going to stroll along that rock wall, place one bomb at the west corner of the building, then sneak across the front to plant another bomb at the other corner and then when I come back across the front I will put another at the four main doors. That is after I find a couple of landscape rocks to prop open the doors to create a breeze running through that big hallway. The way the wind is blowing tonight the breeze will spread the poison through that building real quick once we set off the bombs. I would say ninety nine percent of the guards are asleep. They won’t see the Nevada sun again.”

“I dunno’ Francis. That plan of action sounds pretty complicated to me,” said Little Jimbo keeping a straight face.

“Go on. You and Lynn take the dogs and get ready. Amanda, you stay here and cover me.”

Lynn and Little Jimbo spurred their horses into a slow trot and headed across the street to the corral. Then she turned on Butch and looked to the ground where the dogs were sitting next to Two.

“Jungen…geh vor,” said Lynn pointing in the direction of the corral.

The Night Ranger had a tinge of anger in her voice.

The four German Shepherds and two Jack Russell terriers bolted from where they were sitting and headed in the direction of the big horse corral.

“Damn! She sounded a little bitchy, kind of like me! I wonder is she is preggers too! What did she just tell the dogs to do Francis?” asked Amanda watching the two scouts and the dogs leave.

“She told them to lead on. She gets that way when my dogs stay by me to wait on a command and now you got me thinking because she acts that way when she is preggers too,” he sighed with his gruff, low voice.

Francis dismounted Two and placed the three pipe bombs in a black canvas bag.

“I will be back as soon as I can.”

The Reaper strolled across Lake Mead Boulevard and walked on the east side of the rock wall. The wall was waist high but Francis made no effort to crouch while he walked. The scout didn’t even look around while he moved across the large front lawn, keeping his visual focus on the west corner of the building.

“Good grief! That man can fry someone’s nerves. Poor Lynn,” muttered Amanda while watching Francis.

The two guards in the small corral shack could have surely seen Francis if they had just looked up from whatever had their attention. In twenty five seconds Francis was at the corner of the Hussein mounted patrol’s building. He stepped around the corner and disappeared into the shadows.

Fifteen seconds later Francis appeared once again and casually walked under the floodlights illuminating the front of the building as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Again, he disappeared in the shadows on the right side of the building.

Twenty seconds later he emerged in the light. He was about to cross the width of the building once again when suddenly one of the glass doors opened slowly. He stepped back into the shadows and looked in Amanda’s direction.

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Amanda softly.

She reached behind her back and placed her hand on her AK47 and then thought better.

“I think this is the perfect time to try out that fancy new air bow of Doc’s, Spooky,” she muttered softly.

Amanda removed the compact heavy weapon from its holster. She fiddled with the black pressure knob for a brief moment.

“I think two is the number for this shot Spooky. We don’t want an arrow to blast through a goon’s body and make a lot of noise like a big pane of glass breaking do we? That might piss Francis off and I know it would piss off Little Jimbo if he had to leave his little herd right away.”

The white stallion twitched his ears to where they were turned as far back as they could turn. He was listening to his master.

Amanda placed two ten rack aluminum arrows in the top groove on the weapon and then looked through its scope.

There were two Hussein guardsmen standing on the lower steps of the porch lighting a cigarette each. Amanda took a breath and pulled the trigger on the bow twice.

Two small hisses erupted from under the butt of the heavy gun and two fourteen inch arrows streaked across the front lawn striking both guards directly in the center of their chests. Both men froze for a brief second and then fell forward, with their burning cigarettes still in their hands. Both shots were heart shots. The kill happened quickly and silently.

The arrows went through the men but not completely through. Each arrowhead was sticking out of their backs by six inches. The number two selection was the proper setting.

“Sweet,” said Amanda softly.

She put the scope back to her right eye and watched Francis emerge into the illumination of the floodlights. Once the guards fell to the surface of the wide front sidewalk he moved quickly.

“Damn! I have never seen Francis move like that!”

The Reaper grabbed the first downed guard by the collar on his uniform and dragged him to the east into the low bushes in front of the building. Then he quickly moved back to the sidewalk and did the same with the second guard, except this time he dragged the guard’s body into the shadows on the left.

Amanda continued to watch for what seemed like a long minute. Then in her scope a figure emerged wearing a guard’s tunic and a Hussein guard’s monkey hat.

“Francis, what are you up to?”

Francis walked to the front of the building and in each hand he had a landscape rock. He glanced quickly into the big hallway and saw no one. He opened two doors and propped them open with the rocks. Then he placed the third pipe bomb, the largest of the three, behind a flower pot. The bomb could be easily seen from the street but not from the interior or front porch of the building. Through her scope Amanda could see the red LED light was blinking. Francis had armed the device. It could be detonated remotely but it would go off automatically after a certain amount of time had passed. Amanda wondered how much time Francis had allowed.

Then he descended the steps and walked west to where the rock wall stood. Amanda watched in amazement as the leader of the Reaper Crew slid over the low rock wall as if mounting and dismounting a horse.  The Reaper then headed for the guard shack sitting in front of the corral.

“Francis, do not shoot them! Please don’t shoot them! That will wake up every geek in that big building!” muttered Amanda while looking through her scope.

Then she breathed a sigh of relief. Right before Francis entered the guard shack she saw a flash of steel from a thirteen inch Bowie knife in his right hand. That was the usual knife every scout carried when riding in the mountains.

She watched as Francis moved his arms in two swift motions. Then he stepped out of the guard shack and looked in the direction of the corral gates. He held his left hand up to the right side of his body and made what looked like was a victory sign.

As he walked back to Amanda, Spooky and Two he shed the Hussein guard tunic and removed the monkey hat, throwing it to the ground. Within thirty seconds he was sitting on Two.

“What was with the victory sign Francis?” asked Amanda.

Francis removed one of his thin cigars from his vest’s inner pocket, stuck a match and lit his cigar. He took a deep breath and didn’t attempt to make a ring of smoke. He was in no hurry.

“That wasn’t a victory sign Amanda. Little Jimbo was crouched behind the wood gate to the corral. He had the two gates unlatched when I came out of the guard shack. That was a signal for him and Lynn to start the stampede in two minutes,” he answered while removing a small black remote detonator from one of his vest pockets.

“Two minutes! That was over a minute ago Francis!” exclaimed Amanda.

“You better holster that bow and get that flashlight in your hand girl. All hell is about to break loose.”

Francis had no sooner completed his statement when both scouts could hear some dogs barking in the distance. They weren’t barking a lot, only every now and then.

At first the two wooden gates opened slowly and then suddenly they burst wide open.

“Here comes the herd Amanda! It’s your turn to get on the stage.”

“Holy shit!” yelled Amanda as she spurred her big white stallion forward.

Francis watched as Spooky and Amanda rushed across Lake Mead Boulevard to meet the oncoming herd of horses head on. When the horses were seventy feet in front of her the Pale Rider maneuvered the big white stallion to the west and turned on her flashlight, waving it wildly. The panicked lead horses turned to the east and headed down Lake Mead Boulevard.

Amanda spurred the white stallion and within fifty yards was riding by the south side of the two lead horses. Francis watched for a long moment as the herd thundered by in front of him and Two. He looked across the street to see several Hussein guardsmen exit their bedrooms into the main hallway of the Hussein mounted patrol’s headquarters. He removed his father’s AK47 from its holster and cradled the weapon in his arms.

“We need to buy Lynn and Little Jimbo some time, Two,” he muttered.

Francis started to pick off the guardsmen the minute they came close to the front entrance. Francis targeted guardsmen for the next two minutes as the herd thundered by his position behind the hedge row. Soon many guardsmen, most in their underwear, were crouched in the hallway carrying weapons and looking at the glass doors frantically. The dead and bleeding bodies of their comrades on the tile floor sent the foreigners into a panic and most were frozen in their tracks. Francis replaced the spent thirty round ammo clip on his AK47 and continued to fire effectively, killing a man with every shot.

“Damn Two! How many horses are there?” he muttered as he targeted and killed another guard in the building across the street.

The thunder from the galloping horses was so loud he could barely hear his AK47 with the silencer attached. After thirty more seconds he saw Lynn, Little Jimbo and the six dogs gallop by his location at the rear of the fast moving herd. The two scouts on their horses never glanced his way. Neither did the six dogs. They were focused on the task at hand and they were performing the task well.

“It’s about damn time!” he exclaimed as he pressed the red remote button on his black detonator. He watched for thirty more seconds as more guardsmen ran into the large hallway. Immediately the men started to grab their throats and fall to the tiled floor, not moving. The Nevada wind, which had been an enemy the entire night, was now an ally.

As he spurred Two to move down Lake Mead Boulevard he could clearly hear the thundering herd in the distance.

“Damn Two! That sounds like a big freight train moving through Las Vegas! That is one scary sound!”

Two turned to follow the herd but Francis had his horse at a slow trot. He was in no hurry.

It took Francis five minutes to arrive at the on ramp at Interstate Fifteen trotting down Lake Mead Boulevard. Waiting at the entrance to the interstate was Little Jimbo, Lynn, the six dogs and Amanda. When he pulled up to the three scouts he immediately noticed that Amanda was red faced and out of breath.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Are you kidding me? That was like running in front of a freight train! It was the first time I have ever ridden Spooky where I couldn’t hear his hoof beats! You should have been here Francis! The sound of the horses pounding up this concrete ramp was incredible! The ramp was shaking and vibrating like crazy! I thought it was going to collapse for a moment!”

“So I take it Ringo and his boys managed to get those horses headed in the right direction?”

“Hell yeah! Spooky did it all! When we turned up this ramp all the horses followed him and when I pulled off to the side they continued to run! Hell yeah, they continued to run. If the horses in front stopped they would have been trampled to death!” said Amanda.

“I wonder what Zak is going to say once Ringo, his boys and the herd thunder through the gate and down the ramp into Sin City! I sure hope he has everyone out of the way!” said Lynn.

“The old man knows what is coming. He just doesn’t know how many. It sure looked to me like there were more than two thousand horses in that herd. Did you get them all Jimbo?” asked Francis.

“I think we got every last one. I rode through the stable while Lynn and the dogs got the herd running and I didn’t see a single horse in any of the stalls. Those German Shepherds sure know how to get a herd started quick.”

Lynn pulled six dog biscuits out of her vest pocket and, following dog protocol, rewarded each one of them. Then she removed a small pan and her canteen, watering her animals. The first two to partake of water was the alpha males, Studly and Tiger. The Jack Russell terriers quickly got their share and moved aside to let the bigger dogs quench their thirst. The two small dogs knew it was in their best interest to share with their big brothers.

Lynn picked both Jack Russell terriers off the ground, one under each arm and walked to Francis.

“They are flat tuckered out. Their little legs can’t keep up that well with the big boys. Would you carry Studly in your saddle bag? I will carry Tiger.”

“You know I will. The dog pack did well. I reckon we better head to the escape ravine and see what is going on,” said Francis.

“Let’s head that way. The portable buildings are less than a half a mile away. I haven’t heard any gunfire since we have been sitting here so that is a good sign,” said Lynn.

“They should have the children in the ditch by now,” said Little Jimbo.

As the four scouts moved under the Interstate Fifteen overpass Amanda suddenly spoke.

“Hey, wait! Hold up! I hear something!”

The four scouts reined in their horses and came to a stop.

“Yeah, I hear it too! That is a familiar sound!” added Lynn.

“I know that sound! There is a chopper in the air and it sounds low to the ground. It sounds like it might be coming this way,” said Francis.

“It is coming from behind us! We must have missed a chopper pilot at the Hussein guard building somehow!” exclaimed Lynn.

Thirty seconds passed when suddenly the Homeland Security helicopter flew directly over the four scouts who had stopped under the overpass. The crew on the helicopter had both searchlights on and was using them to scope out the landscape. The four scouts and the big dogs could not be seen while under the wide Interstate Fifteen overpass.

“They are searching for whoever grabbed the horses and killed all their little buddies! That is an Apache AH-64 attack helicopter! That is the type of chopper FEMA and Homeland security flies!” yelled Little Jimbo.

“I don’t like the direction that chopper is taking! It is headed towards FEMA camp 37 and the children’s portables! The pilot has both of his searchlights on so he’s looking for something!” yelled Amanda.

The Pale Rider spurred her white stallion and put him into a full gallop headed east down Lake Mead Boulevard towards FEMA Camp 37. The three remaining scouts did the same with their horses while the German Shepherds struggled to keep pace.

The Pale Rider spurred her white stallion once more when she saw the helicopter swing lower to the ground and start using its floodlights to search the numerous desert ravines in the nine square mile killing field just south of FEMA Camp 37 and north of the children’s portables.

This was the killing field between FEMA Camp 37 and the children’s portable buildings which was marred with many desert ravines. It was the same field where Amanda saw three of her fellow escapees felled by FEMA snipers the night she escaped. The three men had taken Zak up on his offer of either choosing to go to North Las Vegas or to join the Free America struggle. The three men had made a bad choice. The sight of the helicopter hovering low sent all four scout’s hearts pounding.

* * * * *

Chapter Twenty Six

Raid

Wiley had taken twenty minutes to travel down Interstate Fifteen on Ghost and another ten to arrive at the vacant lot just one hundred yards away from the targeted portable buildings. The remainder of the Reaper Crew followed him along with the fifty black clad Dyke archers and Uncle Danny in his black, stretch limousine.

The vacant lot was enclosed with a rusty chain link fence on three sides and a three foot high fence that was broken down in several places on the street side. There was a twenty foot gap in the small fence that provided easy access for Uncle Danny’s limousine, the horses and the fifty bikes used by the Dykes. Wiley and Preacher Joe were the first two scouts to ride into the desert lot that, surprisingly, was dotted with some thirty to forty foot tall trees that would have offered some shade if the sun was out and there were large patches of grass in the lot that had been mowed.

“I don’t know who owns this lot but we are taking it tonight for the time being. Somebody has been taking care of it,” said Wiley dismounting Ghost and tying her to the low, broken down chain link fence.

“There is no telling. North Las Vegas had a pretty bad reputation before the war started. We are going to find it necessary to leave someone behind to guard the horses, the bikes and that limo. You don’t see any vehicles moving on the streets outside Sin City prison anymore since gas went above a hundred bucks a gallon,” answered Preacher Joe.

“I reckon I will have a couple of our archers guard the lot,” said Wiley.

Preacher Joe saw his Uncle Danny emerge from the limo carrying his AK47 in his hands.

“No, we may need every one of the foot soldiers. I have someone who would make an excellent guard,” he said.

Preacher Joe intercepted Uncle Danny on his journey from the limo to the lot. He took less than thirty seconds to instruct Uncle Dan and returned to Wiley.

“That solves a minor problem. I made him remove his silencer. It we hear that AK fire off in the night then we can send someone to see what is going on in this lot. Uncle Dan was a soldier once and he knows what to do with that assault rifle if something needs to be done.”

“Hey, Commander Wiley, should me and Em take our chain guns with us?” asked Calamity Jane.

“I don’t think those will be necessary Janie,” replied Wiley.

The experienced female scout looked at Wiley and grinned.

“Fuck you, you tinhorn commander! Me and Em don’t go anywhere without our guns! Some commander! Joe, don’t listen to that green scout!”

Then Emily and Jane removed the heavy guns along with a bag containing extra ammo drums and slung them on their right shoulders. The two women walked up to Wiley.

“Okay, what next Commander Wiley?” asked Calamity Jane sweetly.

Wiley grimaced and shook his head.

“We need to look at this map…what was that?” asked Wiley standing up quickly.

Preacher Joe had drawn one of his Glocks and the scouts with the chain guns had lowered both weapons to a firing position.

Everyone had heard what sounded like a door being shut. The scouts and archers silently watched as a small figure walked to the front of the black stretch limo. Standing by the darkened headlights of the limousine was little Zak wearing the scout hat big Zak had given him while he was at the Secondary Base.

“Zak? What? How did you get…here?” asked Lydia.

She was the first scout to shake the feeling of surprise and than panic set in. The boy should not have come.

The little man walked to stand in front of the scouts and foot soldiers.

“I didn’t walk, that’s for sure,” he answered with a laugh.

“The little sneak stowed away in the limo!” exclaimed Danny.

“That is one nice car. There are plenty of places to hide in there and I drank a cold Pepsi out of a can. That was new to me,” said little Zak.

“You get back in the limo Zak and you stay there until this is over. You do that and you can have all the Pepsi you want,” said Wiley.

The small boy took the leather hat off his head, threw it on the ground in front him and stomped on the hat several times for several seconds while moving in a counter clockwise fashion. Finally, he looked up at Wiley.

“All of you are the most hardheaded scouts I have ever seen! I keep telling every one of you that you are going to need me to save these children and none of you listen!” he hissed.

He knew that to be loud would not be good.

The scouts were frozen after what they had just seen, especially Calamity Jane, Emily and Preacher Joe. They had seen this behavior before.

Janie lowered her chain gun.

“Damn if he doesn’t have the mannerisms down to a T,” she said.

“Just teach him a few cuss words and he would be a little dead ringer,” added Emily.

“Yeah, even two or three days is too long for a twelve year old boy to be hanging around with Uncle Zak. You can throw all the fits you want boy, but you ain’t going on this mission. It is too dangerous and you are too young. When you have gone through your scout training and you are eighteen then maybe you can go with us then,” said Preacher Joe.

“No, unfortunately this isn’t happening when I am eighteen. It is happening now. I am going with you to save my friends. I must go with you to save my friends.”

“Maybe we should lock him in the limo?” asked Uncle Danny.

Zak shot an angry look at big Zak’s brother.

“If you do something like that you are no better than the FEMA camp guards who have been locking me up for the last two years.”

The adults looked at each other with looks on their faces that could only be described as confusion.

“Damn, he is twelve going on twenty nine!” exclaimed Wiley.

Calamity Jane stepped forward and knelt down in front of little Zak. Lydia did the same.

“He may be twelve but he is right,” said Jane looking into the young man’s eyes.

“He is. It is not fun being locked up anywhere. You do realize that we might be killed doing this?” asked Lydia.

Calamity Jane locked eyes with Lydia. The experienced scout was silent but a look of calm crept over her face. She had been fortunate to see that look twice in her life. The first time was the night the Pale Rider became the Pale Rider. The second time was at FEMA camp 43 when the Night Ranger became the Night Ranger. She knew at that moment the White Widow had morphed into what she had heard previously. Lydia was now the White Widow. Calamity arose to her feet and moved to stand next to Emily.

“I know that I could be hurt! But isn’t Joe going with us? Aren’t you two a team?” asked little Zak.

Lydia looked at Preacher Joe and he nodded his head.

“Yes, we are a team,” she said softly.

“I am going too!” said Sandra.

Little Zak looked at the heavy white bandage around Sandra’s right arm.

“No, you can’t go. You are hurt so you need to stay with the foot soldiers. Besides, two’s company and three’s a crowd. Two and a half is just right. Everyone saw the map earlier. There are six rows of five buildings each. Once Lydia and Joe clear a row of any guards have the foot soldiers move in on that row with silent death. Once we get the kids out of the last row and into the ravine turn Jane and Emily loose with those big guns if you want. We just don’t want to wake up the guards in the long building to the north before we are through. There are four or five hundred of them sleeping there.”

“Damn Emily, he even sounds like big Zak. I am freaking out. I think the kid is possessed,” whispered Calamity Jane.

Emily nodded her head and then replied.

“Maybe so Janie, but if he is we need to capture that part somehow and turn it back loose in the old man. The kid has the right spirit.”

“We need to get moving because we don’t have much time! I know Lynn, Francis, Little Jimbo or Amanda will be creating noise somewhere in this area because I saw them ride this way,” said little Zak.

Wiley stepped forward and placed his hand behind the young boy’s back.

“Everyone heard Zak! We are pressed for time! Let’s get moving! Lead the way young man.”

After moving quickly through the North Las Vegas neighborhood the group of scouts and foot soldiers were crouched behind a long hedge that formed a border between some small houses and the vast open area of the desert where the portables, the guards’ quarters and FEMA camp 37 were to be found. FEMA camp 37 had several flood lights dotting its perimeter exterior while the guards’ quarters had a solitary light at one entrance door directly in the middle of the long building.

There were no lights in or around the children’s portable buildings. The only effective light was provided by the moon this night.

“I see no lights. That is good, real good,” said Lydia as she pulled her black ski mask over her head.

“Why are there no lights Zak?” hissed Jane.

“Because there is no electric power silly!” he hissed back.

“Well, that makes sense,” answered Jane.

“Jane, why don’t you and Emily relocate over to the left where the dumpsters are located? From that position you will have a clear shot on the guards’ building if things go that far,” said Preacher Joe.

Jane eyed the three walled structure containing four dumpsters and nodded her head.

“That looks good to me. Those dumpsters are overflowing and look like they haven’t been emptied for a long time so they probably stink to high heaven. At least we won’t have to worry about some guard coming out to take out the trash because they are so full.  Me and Emily have probably smelled worse. Let’s move it Em.”

The two female scouts slipped into the dark shadows and headed west. Within ten seconds the two female scouts could no longer be seen.

“All right, I am ready. Sandra, each time I come to new row have ten foot soldiers move into the row I just left. We will need at least two foot soldiers to go with Lydia and Joe to get the kids coming out of the building going in the right direction.”

“I will see to that little Zak. You be careful. Lydia, Joe take care of him,” said Sandra bending over to hug the young boy.

Little Zak hugged Sandra back and the two of them stayed in an embrace for a long moment. Then the boy moved without any hesitation in the direction of the first row of portable buildings.

Wiley shook Joe’s hand.

“If things go haywire the rescue squadron is just one hundred feet away.”

Joe laughed softly.

“Once we get to the final row the only person who will be standing here is you, Wiley!” he exclaimed softly.

“That will be enough and I will be ready,” answered Wiley.

Little Zak strode across the scrub covered field and walked up the wood ramp to the first row of portables.

Emily and Jane had arrived at their position and watched the young man in the dim moonlight approach the buildings.

“Damn Emily, he acts like the old man but he walks like Francis. Is he alone? I don’t see the White Widow or Preacher Joe!”

“I don’t see them…wait, I saw something black open the door for little Zak!” she hissed.

After a few seconds little Zak entered the first portable building and as the door closed Jane saw what see thought was some light in the interior. Breaking that light for a brief moment was a dark figure.

“I just saw something black come out of that building while Zak walked in!” said Emily softly.

“Keep your eye on what’s happening Emily and I will keep an eye on the guards’ building. This operation is fraying my nerves!” said Calamity Jane.

A minute passed and Emily spoke.

“I see a line of kids coming out of the doorway Janie! They are jumping down to the ground off the wood walkway. I also see ten black figures or more heading them to the escape ravine. The plan is working! Holy shit! Three guards just appeared on the walkway between row one and row two. Crap! They are reaching for their…”

Emily and Jane saw a tall black figure wearing a broad brim hat emerge from the shadows of the east building. The black figure moved quickly on the wood walkway and the only thing the scouts could make out in the dim moonlight was the movement of arms and several glints of steel. Emily and Jane heard nothing. The two scouts watched as several dark figures on the ground, almost like a scene to be viewed in a science fiction movie, quickly removed the fallen bodies of the FEMA guards from the wood walkway and melded into the shadows. The only sound that could be heard was the brief light footsteps of children exiting the portable building.

Finally little Zak emerged and unfettered, followed the walkway to the second portable building in the first row.

The two female scouts suddenly felt helpless not having the ability to see what was going on but they had seen enough. Two people dressed in black had the ability to kill quickly and silently.

“That had to be Lydia! It couldn’t have been Joe!” said Jane.

“I couldn’t tell because it happened so quickly. It might have been Joe because I thought I saw a hat on the figure on the walkway. I don’t know exactly who that was but I sure don’t want to get on his or her bad side. If it was Lydia she killed those three men quick and she didn’t use a gun!” replied Emily in a whisper.

“No, she didn’t use a gun. It looked like she had a big knife in each hand and both knives didn’t look like a scout’s knife.”

The two scouts taking refuge in the concrete walls containing the dumpsters watched for the next twenty minutes as little Zak appeared at the beginning of each new row with more black clad figures melding in the shadows of the portable buildings to the east. Finally, he was on the walkway on the last row to the west. The Black Widow and Calamity Jane had front row seats as to how the operation was being executed.  The experienced female scouts watched as a solitary dark figure entered the first portable building on the last row and then a few seconds later little Zak followed.

“That has to be the White Widow. I didn’t see a hat on the head,” said Jane.

“I think I see Joe. There is a large dark figure at the opposite end of that building standing in the shadows and whoever it is, is wearing a wide brimmed hat. That has to be Joe,” added Emily.

Three minutes after Zak entered the building children started to bolt out of the only door and immediately turned to head west, accompanied by black clad figures that were waiting on the ground by the wood walkway. The black clad foot soldiers were lifting the children down to the ground while others headed them to the escape ravine.

The two scouts watched the operation until there was one building left. This portable building was the closest one to the guards’ building.

“Uh oh. At least ten goons came out of the guards’ building Em. They are standing under the damn light bulb smoking something but they are surely gonna’ see Zak and the kids when they come out of that building,” said Jane.

“What in the hell is that noise?” asked Emily.

Both women could hear a sound like rolling thunder coming from the west. At first the two women thought the sound was a train moving through North Las Vegas in the distance. Within the next thirty seconds the sound grew louder, much louder and the two female scouts started to get nervous.

Now many of the FEMA guards were pouring out of the guards’ quarters but thankfully they were looking to the west in the direction of the growing sound. So far no children had exited the last building.

“I wonder what is taking little Zak so long on this last building?” asked Jane.

While she and Emily watched, the dark figure with the hat bolted quickly through the door entering the portable.

“Something ain’t right!” hissed Emily.

She had no sooner completed her sentence when several shots rang out in the night air, coming from the last building.

Now there were a hundred men who had exited the guards’ quarters to see what the rumble from the west was and more were exiting every second. When the FEMA camp guards heard the shots echo in the night air, every one of them turned their attention in the direction of the nearby portable.

Suddenly, the door on the last portable was thrown open and children started to exit on a run screaming at the top of their lungs. The black clad figures lurking outside the last building quickly gathered the frightened children and moved them in the right direction towards the escape ravine not wasting any time.

“Something has gone wrong!” exclaimed Emily.

“You better believe something has gone wrong! Something is wrong for those damn foreigners! Fuck em! I think it is showtime!” said Calamity Jane, stepping out from behind the dumpster with her chain gun in her hands.

Many of the guards started to run in the direction of the nearest portable building with their guns drawn yelling at the top of their lungs in a foreign language.

Calamity Jane opened up with her Big X chain gun. She had the setting on rapid fire.

She cut down every FEMA guard running across the ground in the direction of the nearest building in the children’s slave camp in less than ten seconds. She continued to fire into the guards’ building indiscriminately sweeping her deadly weapon back and forth. Even with a silencer attached the gun could be clearly heard.

Emily moved beside her and opened up with her chain gun, starting at the western end of the guards’ wooden, single story building and moving her weapon slowly to the right, literally cutting the frail wood structure in half. By the time she was halfway across the structure it was in flames. Jane continued to fire on the target in no set pattern.

When they were finished both women turned to see a tall dark figure wearing a broad brim hat exit the door of the last portable building carrying a small figure in his arms.

As the figure moved into the dim moonlight Calamity Jane and Emily could see it was Preacher Joe carrying little Zak. Joe turned and walked down the wood walkway in the direction of the vacant lot.

A black clad figure quickly passed him and began to shout.

“We need the limo! We need the limo now!”

The voice belonged to Lydia.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

At the same time the sound of helicopter blades cutting the air could be heard. Emily and Jane looked to the north and their hearts almost stopped. They both could see a chopper with its twin searchlights focused on the desert moving slowly above the ground at one hundred feet. The chopper was searching for something in the desert.

“The pilot ain’t even coming over here to check out the burning building! That is the same field those boys got shot during the first raid on FEMA camp 37 six years ago! That damn pilot is searching for the kids!” said Emily.

“Let’s move to the escape ravine Em! We didn’t bring any missiles with us but maybe we can take him down with the chain guns once he gets close if he doesn’t get us first!”

Wiley was standing guard in the vacant lot with Uncle Danny when he saw all hell break loose. He watched as Emily and Jane went into action and he saw Joe exit the last building carrying a child in his arms.  The last image he saw made him spring into action. The helicopter gliding low over the desert and moving its searchlights sent alarms throughout his body. Wiley sprang into action.

“Danny, someone is calling for the limo! It looks like we have an injured kid so get down there with the car!” yelled Wiley.

Wiley quickly moved and mounted Ghost. He took off at a full gallop in the direction of the portables. While in a full gallop he reached behind his right saddle bags and grabbed a collapsible three piece flag pole. Wrapped around the flagpole was a tattered bloody flag.

“Boy, is Amanda gonna’ be pissed off when she finds out I stole her flag,” he said with a slight grin.

Wiley and Ghost galloped between Emily and Jane, who were just starting to move from the walls of the dumpster station and Preacher Joe carrying a small body in his arms. As Wiley galloped by he could see from the illumination of the guards’ quarters raging fire that Joe had little Zak in his arms. Lydia had removed her ski mask and he could clearly see her distraught face standing ten feet down the walkway from a somber looking Preacher Joe. He elected not to stop and continued to push Ghost faster. The big white mare responded to this spurs.

“Wiley! No! No! Don’t!” yelled Lydia as his horse galloped by.

The White Widow ran to where Calamity Jane and the Black Widow were standing with smoke still drifting off the gun barrels of the chain guns.

“Little Zak is badly hurt! What is Wiley doing?” asked Lydia with her voice drenched in emotion and panic.

Jane and Emily turned to watch the rump of the white horse slowly disappear around the west side of the burning building, heading towards the killing field.

“He is doing a brave thing White Widow, like all scouts do. He is drawing attention away from the children in the escape ravine,” answered Jane softly.

“He is committing suicide! The chopper pilot will think he is the Pale Rider!” wailed Lydia.

“Maybe but I don’t know. That crazy fucker had a strange grin on his face when he rode by us. He looked right at the both of us. The expression on his face didn’t look like anyone who was planning on dying tonight,” said Emily.

“Yeah, I noticed that too. His expression looked more like one of…retribution. Strange,” said Jane softly.

“We better get moving to the ravine Janie. Someone needs to go with Uncle Danny and little Zak. We can all talk about it later,” said Emily.

Lydia looked at the circling chopper to the north and then turned to Jane and Emily.

“I will have Joe and Sandra go with little Zak and Uncle Danny. I need to go help Wiley. Can I use one of those guns?”

Jane looked at Emily and nodded.

“Take Em’s. Good luck Lydia.”

The new scout grabbed Emily’s chain gun and took off to the north in the direction of the chopper as fast as she could run.

As she left she turned to Joe and yelled while pointing with her free hand.

“Go! Go!”

Jane and Emily saw Preacher Joe and Emily move quickly to the limousine that slammed to a stop at the end of the wood walkway kicking up desert dust. Sandra opened the side doors and Joe jumped inside with little Zak, who was not moving. Uncle Danny put the big limo in reverse and then roared away down the neighborhood street.

The two scouts turned to look across the dark desert field.

“She won’t make it Janie. There is no cover out there! That chopper with the big searchlights will cut her to pieces.”

“I know. That is the same problem we have to face if that chopper comes for the kids. Let’s get moving and find a place to set up to defend the kids. Maybe we can find a big boulder on the floor of the desert, Em,” said the redheaded scout while shouldering the chain gun and rapidly moving towards the escape ravine.

* * * * *

Lynn, Amanda, Francis and Little Jimbo had put their horses into a full gallop when the FEMA chopper had crossed over them while they had stopped on Lake Mead Boulevard under the Interstate Fifteen overpass. Now they had arrived at the vast killing field that separated FEMA camp 37 from the children’s slave camp.

They continued to ride in the direction of the hovering FEMA helicopter.

Lynn, on her big black stallion, surprisingly, pulled up alongside Amanda who was pushing Spooky hard. This was the fastest and longest amount of time she had ever driven the big white stallion and to her, it seemed that he could run like this forever. Lynn wasn’t that sure about her black stallion, Butch.

“I see a building in flames by the slave camp! I thought I heard some chain guns firing a moment ago!” said Lynn.

“Me too! It had to be Em and Jane! Something has gone wrong! That chopper is looking for something in the ravines! It will be just a matter of time before he finds the escape route and the kids!”

The two women on their horses continued in the direction of the circling helicopter hanging low over the desert, using its twin searchlights to illuminate the terrain. Suddenly, one of the searchlights moved quickly to the south and focused on a figure on a white horse moving rapidly across the desert. The figure was holding a flag erect in one of his hands.

“It’s Wiley! What in the hell does he think he is doing?” yelled Amanda, continuing to gently spur Spooky.

The two women watched what was happening in the distance as they continued to ride. The helicopter slowly moved in the direction of the oncoming figure on the white horse.

“The fool is riding directly at the chopper!” yelled Amanda.

Once the chopper moved towards Wiley he disappeared from view.

“He is using one of my tricks! He is riding in the bottom of the ravines!”

Ten seconds later Wiley emerged on Ghost in another part of the desert fifty yards from where he originally disappeared.

The chopper slowly turned hovering two hundred yards off the desert floor and gave pursuit.

“That knucklehead! At least you would think he would head in our direction! He must have heard the thunder of the herd and put two and two together!” exclaimed Lynn.

The four scouts continued to pursue the helicopter. Now, Little Jimbo and Francis were a good hundred yards behind the black and white stallions.

Wiley and Ghost jumped down into another ravine and disappeared from sight confusing the helicopter pilot. The chopper searched for twenty seconds sweeping the desert terrain with its twin searchlights looking for the Pale Rider.

Finally the helicopter froze in midair. The chopper pilot had found what he was searching for.

On the floor of the desert stood Wiley holding a flag pole stuck in the ground with Amanda’s tattered and bloody Free America flag flying stiffly in the desert breeze. He was standing beside Ghost and facing the searchlights mounted on the chopper with defiance.

“Fuck!” yelled Amanda.

“We need to get closer!” yelled Lynn.

They both watched as Wiley pulled one of Colt 1911 pistols from his holster, aimed and began to fire at the hovering chopper that was two hundred yards away from where he was standing.

“What is he thinking? Those bullets won’t reach!” yelled Lynn, continuing to push Butch.

“The pilot ain’t fired yet!”

“He is probably up there laughing his ass off seeing Wiley shoot at him with a pistol,” yelled Lynn.

Wiley emptied his pistol, threw it to the ground and pulled another. Before firing he slapped Ghost on her rump and the white mare started to run away across the desert.

The twenty millimeter Gatling guns on the attack helicopter opened up on the fleeing horse, cutting it to pieces in seconds. Ghost fell to the desert ground, not moving a muscle.

“Mother fucker!” yelled Wiley.

The scout opened up this time with his pistol, emptying the clip quickly.

Suddenly, a stream of red tracer bullets fired from the desert ground to the south, causing visible sparks on the under carriage and frame of the helicopter. Just as quickly as the stream appeared it ceased.

“That must be Janie or Em! They must have run out of bullets and are reloading!” yelled Amanda.

“We ain’t close enough yet!”

The two women watched as one of the searchlights moved to search the ground to the south. Soon, Lynn and Amanda saw a black clad figure in the desert with blonde hair holding a chain gun in her hands.

“That’s the White Widow! She is about to get killed!” said Lynn.

The two female scouts watched with horror as the FEMA chopper opened up on Wiley. They both could see bullets kicking up the desert dust as the Gatling gun bullets raked across his chest. Wiley fell to his knees for a moment clutching his chest and then released the Free America flag flying in the wind and fell over on his right. The Free America flag continued to fly in the desert.

“Those son of a bitches!” yelled Amanda.

The two female scouts were now getting close to where they wanted to be, but still were not close enough.

They watched as the hovering chopper began to rotate clockwise in the direction of where Lydia stood. In the bright searchlight the two female scouts could see in the distance that Lydia had donned her black ski mask to cover her blonde hair and had become the White Widow. Once the chopper pilot had his vehicle turned with the White Widow in his sights, he paused for a second before pulling the trigger. He was surprised to see the black clad figure giving him the finger in the bright beam. Then he pulled the trigger kicking up a ton of desert dust. He quit firing to let the dust settle to the ground which took ten seconds. Once the dust was blown away by the warm wind blowing from the south or settled to the ground the only thing the pilot saw was a mangled chain gun resting on the floor of the desert.

The White Widow had disappeared into the shadows of the desert.

“This will have to do!” yelled Amanda.

As she grabbed her new pneumatic bow and loaded the Semtex arrows Lynn removed her chain gun from its holster.

Suddenly two streams of tracer bullets shot high over their heads striking the hovering chopper broadside.

Lynn turned to see Francis and Little Jimbo standing in their stirrups two hundred yards behind her and Amanda firing their AK47s. They had gotten the chopper pilots attention as the war machine in the black sky turned its searchlights to the west. Both of the bright beams found the Night Ranger and the true Pale Rider quickly.

As the machine turned Lynn opened up with the Big X chain gun sending a third constant steam of red tracer bullets into the hovering machine while Amanda moved her pneumatic bow into a firing position.

After this moment, there were many arguments around the campfire on who brought down the flying machine. No one could see the three fourteen inch long black arrows streaking through the night time sky that Amanda fired.

The attack helicopter exploded violently into a massive orange and yellow ball of fire, illuminating the desert ground known as the killing field. A mushroom shaped ball of fire quickly rose into the night sky once the helicopter impacted the ground, whipped about by the strong desert winds.

The chopper quickly slammed to the ground erupting into another massive ball of fire with a loud bang. The explosive missiles the machine carried exploded either from the heat of the fire or the impact with the desert.

It took Francis and Little Jimbo twenty seconds to arrive where the Night Ranger and the Pale Rider were sitting on their horses watching the flames leap into the dark Nevada sky.

“The pilot got Wiley. I think he might have gotten Lydia too,” said Amanda softly.

The crackling sound of the intense fire was loud. The German Shepherds finally caught up with their masters. It had been a long run.

Suddenly Little Jimbo turned in his saddle and looked at Interstate Fifteen.

“Fuck! Here comes another chopper!”

The four scouts turned their horses to face the approaching war machine. Francis, Lynn and Little Jimbo scrambled to reload their weapons. Amanda suddenly lowered her pneumatic bow.

“Quiet everyone! Listen!”

From two loudspeakers mounted on the underbelly of the helicopter all four scouts could hear a familiar song. The wind was blowing in the right direction to identify the tune.

It was the funeral dirge Comfortably Numb. Old Zak was letting his scouts know not to shoot him down.

“Thank God! It’s Zak,” sighed Lynn.

They watched as the helicopter landed on the northbound lane of Interstate Fifteen. They could see the top of black car with a long roofline.

“Isn’t that the black limo?” asked Little Jimbo.

“Yes, it is. I think that is Preacher Joe and Sandra. I can see a bandage on her arm. I see Uncle Danny too. That doesn’t look good,” said Lynn.

The four scouts watched as the people on the bridge scrambled. Almost as quickly as the helicopter landed it lifted off the roadway but before heading in any direction it moved towards the four scouts sitting out on the killing field.

The music of Pink Floyd grew louder.

The chopper stopped and hovered less than fifty feet away and thirty feet above the desert floor. All four scouts could clearly see from the light offered by the raging fire behind them and despite the dust that was rising off the desert from the choppers churning blades, the old man sitting in the passenger’s seat.

He looked directly at his four scouts for a long moment and then waved. The helicopter quickly rose in the air and headed to the northeast, towards the Secondary Base.

“This has been a rough night and that didn’t look good. Those were tears streaming down Zak’s face. Weren’t those tears baby?” asked Lynn softly.

“It looked like tears to me lover. A lot of tears,” replied Francis just as softly.

“Something bad has happened. I don’t want to go there,” said Lynn.

“Let’s go get Wiley,” said Amanda with a shaky voice.

The Pale Rider knew at that moment there was only one thing now in life that could make the old man cry. She had seen old Zak at many of the burial ceremonies for scouts who had been killed in action. She had never seen any tears on his weathered face during those burials.

“I will go get Lydia,” added Little Jimbo.

Little Jimbo spurred his horse and headed to where everyone last saw the White Widow make her stand.

Lynn, Francis and Amanda moved to the north to go around the burning inferno that was in their way. Once on the other side they saw Wiley lying on the desert ground and Ghost lying not very far away. They stopped briefly to look at the brave horse.

“The shit heads shot her up pretty good,” said Amanda with a more shaky voice.

“The chopper crew thought she was Spooky. They were after the reward,” said Lynn.

The four German Shepherds on the ground cautiously approached Ghost and then returned to stand by Lynn. All three scouts knew that if the horse was alive the dogs would have let them know.

Amanda turned to look at the Night Ranger.

“None of those bastards in that chopper got paid tonight.”

“No. They didn’t get paid tonight at least in government credits. Free America cashed their check tonight. Let’s go get Wiley,” said Lynn.

The three scouts rode to where Wiley was lying.

Amanda was the first to dismount and walked slowly over to where Wiley was lying on his right side.  She was crying softly. She knew what had happened from the action on the interstate and now this. She was tired and things had not gone right. Her emotions were now dominating her behavior.

“Poor Wiley, he wanted to be me but it cost him dearly.”

Francis and Lynn dismounted and moved to stand behind Amanda. She rolled Wiley over slowly to where he was lying on his back. His shirt was dotted with numerous bullet holes across his chest.

Then Amanda fell to her knees and placed her head next to his, crying while stroking the top of his head. Lynn placed her head on Francis’s shoulder and started to cry. While Francis held the love of his life comforting her while she cried he noticed something odd and then began to smile.

There was blood on Wiley’s left leg but he didn’t see any blood oozing out of his chest. His leather vest and shirt was ripped to pieces. There would certainly be blood.

While Francis stood over Wiley’s head he saw him open his right eye and give him a wink. Then he closed his right eye quickly.

While Amanda was crying the resourceful scout lifted his right arm and started to stroke the back of the Pale Riders head with his right hand. Wiley did this for several seconds as Francis struggled to keep from breaking out in a laugh. Lynn finally glanced down at the sobbing Amanda and froze. She wasn’t sure if she was seeing…what she was seeing.

“What the fuck!” she said out loud.

Amanda froze. She quit sobbing once she heard Lynn’s outburst. It finally dawned on her through all her emotions that someone was stroking the back of her head. Rising to a sitting position she saw a grinning Wiley with open eyes.

“What the fuck is this! You are alive?”

“Yep. Still alive and kicking although my left leg is stinging like hell. What took you guys so long to get here?”

“H..h..how?”

“Open my shirt,” answered Wiley.

Amanda reached down and ripped open the shirt covering Wiley’s chest.

“What?”

“That is a heavy duty Kevlar bullet proof vest,” said Francis.

“Yep. All commanders for the Dykes are required to wear a bullet proof vest once they start serving. At least that is what Connie with a C told me, so she gave me the vest. She gave one to Commander Trevor, too. Now I know you like me a lot, Amanda,” said Wiley.

Little Jimbo rode up on his horse. Behind him sitting on the rump of his horse was the White Widow. She quickly jumped down to the ground once she saw Wiley struggling to sit upright.

“Oh thank God! You’re alive, Wiley! I thought you were surely dead!”

Lydia ran to Wiley, who was now in a sitting position, and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

“You are a real shit head to pull a stunt like that Wiley! You like this crazy man Lydia? I will let you have him in a moment or two after I am through with him. So you only got shot in the leg? Your chest doesn’t hurt?”

“Well no Amanda. I got shot in the chest several times and once in the leg. Let me tell you, it stung like hell when they shot me in the chest but it sure as hell doesn’t hurt as much as my left leg!” exclaimed Wiley.

“Did it hurt like this?” asked Amanda.

The tough scout stepped on the gunshot wound in his left leg. Wiley howled in pain.

“Amanda! Behave!’ exclaimed Lynn.

The Pale Rider removed her foot from Wiley’s leg. Then she turned and offered her hand. Wiley looked up at the Pale Rider suspiciously.

“This ain’t no trick is it?”

“No. You did good tonight Wiley, real good. I will help you get on Spooky. I think he might let you ride him after tonight. However, I will hold his reins and walk him back to the Fontainebleau Tower. Does he need your medical services Francis?”

“We better at least bandage his left leg until we get back to the Fontainebleau Tower to stop the bleeding.”

Amanda bent over and cut away Wiley’s jeans with her scout knife.

“The bullet went through his leg and only caught meat. He ain’t bleeding that bad. He should survive until we get back to the tower.”

“Amanda! It will only take Francis a minute or two to wrap a bandage around his leg to keep it from getting infected!”

“Oh all right! What a pampered little asshole!”

Francis retrieved his first aid kit from his saddle bags while Lydia cradled Wiley’s head in her lap. Wiley was playing his role to the hilt. He started to moan.

“I have some bad news Wiley. Little Zak got hurt real bad tonight,” she said quietly while holding Wiley.

Wiley instantly quit moaning.

“I saw Preacher Joe when I began my ride on Ghost. I thought it was little Zak but I wasn’t sure. I should have made little guy stay in the limo,” said Wiley softly.

No one said a word more while Francis doctored Wiley’s leg. Finally Wiley was ready to be moved.

“You are such a little prick sometimes but don’t go feeling sorry for yourself, Wiley. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault,” said Amanda while watching and waiting.

“We tried to make him stay but he threw a fit, throwing his hat on the ground and then stomping all over it. Actually, if we hadn’t followed his plan I might not be here along with a lot of children. It was a tough thirty minutes in my life,” added Lydia, sobbing softly.

After two more minutes of disinfecting the skin around the bandage Francis had Wiley ready to go and he along with Little Jimbo’s help managed to get him on Spooky. The scouts started to head across the killing field when Jane and Emily arrived on their horses. Behind them were Preacher Joe and Sandra’s horses.

“Damn! He is still alive?” asked Calamity Jane.

“I am still alive!” yelled Wiley while snatching Spooky’s reins from Amanda’s hand.

Wiley spurred the white stallion with his good leg and took off in a gallop across the killing field towards the children’s portables.

The scouts watched Wiley disappear into the night riding Amanda’s legendary horse.

“I am going to shoot him one of these days but right now I am too damn tired,” said Amanda.

She moved slowly to mount Preacher Joe’s ride. The remaining members of the Reaper Crew mounted their horses. While riding across the killing field they saw numerous attack helicopters and several fast vehicles on the ground moving on Nellis Air Force Base.

As the rode towards Sin City prison there were many explosions and a lot of machine gun fire erupting from the east in the area of Nellis Air Force base. From the field they saw surface to air missiles streak from the mountains downing federal aircraft attempting to take off.

“I guess Zak couldn’t wait until one hour before sunrise,” sighed Lynn.

“You have a watch Francis! What time is it!” demanded Amanda.

Francis looked at his tattered watch on his wrist.

“It is ten minutes after three Amanda.”

“I reckon that is plenty of time to get those kids out of that ditch and headed to Sin City prison before the sun comes up,” said Little Jimbo.

Francis looked at his tired crew.

“I reckon it is Little Jimbo. What happened at the portables Janie? You and Em were there.”

The two tough scouts got very quiet. Emily started to sob softly.

“It wasn’t good Francis. Lydia can tell you more. She had a front row seat.”

Lydia at first found it hard to speak. Finally she mustered the internal fortitude to tell her tale.

“When I went into the very first portable there were two foreign FEMA guards having their way with two little girls. I didn’t take me long to kill them and for little Zak to get the kids out and moving. Preacher Joe was prowling outside and when we came out there were three more dead FEMA guards lying on the ground beside the wood walkway. Because of the all the explosion from Sin City prison tonight they had doubled their guards. The men I found in the portable weren’t on guard duty. They were pleasuring themselves.”

“With the kids?” asked Amanda.

“Yes.”

“They were raping the little girls?” asked Lynn.

“It was not only little girls. As Joe and I continued to follow Zak I had to go into each building first to clear it while Joe kept watch outside. Every building contained more than one man. I am good at killing men like that.”

“So, you killed two or three men for every building?” asked Little Jimbo.

“Yes, and Joe killed as many armed guards as I did moving on the outside. It was going well until the last building. That was the portable nearest the guards’ bunkhouse and that building contained the twelve year old children. Everything had been executed silently up to that point. When I walked into the last building there were twenty, thirty men having their way with the kids. I started to move through the building killing as many as I could as quickly as I could but there were too many. I yelled for Joe outside and little Zak ran into the room and jumped on one of the guards. Two of them jumped on him with lead pipes and started beating him before I could cross the room. Joe entered and when he saw what was happening he opened up on a few of them with his Glocks. He too, killed many by his knife because it was too tight to be firing a gun inside the portable building unless he had a clear shot. I think Joe fired six times before we killed them all. The kids ran out screaming their heads off. After I cut the last guards throat Joe had little Zak in his arms. I will never forget that image for as long as I live.”

“And?” asked Lynn.

“It didn’t look good. All hell broke loose after that. Janie and Emily opened up with their chain guns. Wiley charged by on his horse, there was a helicopter approaching and the limousine came barreling down the dirt street. Joe and Sandra jumped in the limousine with little Zak and Danny hauled ass. It didn’t look good. Little Zak was not moving.”

“Why didn’t it look good? Was it because little Zak was not moving? Was he bleeding real bad?” asked Amanda

“Because I saw Joe do something that I have seen him do more than a hundred times in Sin City prison. It looked like he was performing last rites on little Zak and he was crying. I have never seen Joe cry before.”

Then Lydia began to sob softly along with Lynn, Amanda, Janie and Em.

As the group passed by the burning guards’ quarters they came upon the last portable building.

“Wait just a moment!” yelled Lynn.

The Night Ranger dismounted to see why her black and brown German Shepherds had jumped upon the wood walkway and were signing on something.

The group of scouts watched as she took an object that the black Shepherd named Sarge had in his mouth.

She returned and mounted Butch.

“What did the dogs find?” asked Calamity Jane

Lynn said nothing but held up a small, black, broad brimmed leather hat. The object was little Zak’s scout hat that big Zak had given him at the Secondary Base. She placed the crumpled hat in her left saddle bag. During the next ten minutes the female scouts had a therapeutic group cry.

It was a long ride back to the Fontainebleau.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Death of a Scout

It had been a busy day and a long night. The Reaper Crew trudged out of the neighborhood that rested beside the slave portables and headed up the off ramp to the elevated surface of Interstate Fifteen. As the group mounted the long slope in the dark of night they heard mechanical engines start to run.

Suddenly, the concrete ramp was illuminated in light, light that didn’t blind but was aimed at the surface of the roadway. While they were gone, floodlights had been set up by the foot soldiers.

“Damn! Look at all the chips in the concrete surface! That herd of horses we moved down this road with their horseshoes really left a trail,” said Little Jimbo.

“Somebody has been busy since we left. Look at the two big iron doors in the big wall! The entrance to Sin City prison is lit up like a landing strip!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

“It was probably big Zak that was busy. He must have shipped some portable generators and lights in one of those trucks from the Texas nation. Is that the limo off to the side?” asked Amanda.

The scouts shielded their eyes from the bright lights illuminating the entrance to Sin City prison. They could make out the black limousine and they saw three figures standing beside the passenger side double doors.

“It looks like they are waiting for us,” said Little Jimbo.

As the scouts moved halfway up the long ramp they heard footsteps coming from behind them. The Reaper Crew reined in their horses. In front of the stalled group of scouts was a wave of Dyke foot soldiers descending the off ramp, pulling wooden and metal food carts. These were the same food carts that had been used during the past years by the Dykes for their survival. Now the carts were covered with mattresses enclosed in clean linen and pillows.

The Reaper Crew turned in their saddles to see a wide column of dirty children wearing tattered rags slowly walking up the ramp towards them. There was a column of young women, foot soldiers who had shed their ski masks, walking on each side of the children. Many of the foot soldiers were carrying young, small children in their arms or on their backs. They were the weak and sick.

The Reaper Crew watched as the ill children were placed on the food carts and hustled up the ramp, moving quickly just to the left of the scouts on their horses. The Reaper Crew saw children that didn’t have the strength to move. The Dykes pulling the carts were in a full run, heading to the infirmary at the Fontainebleau Tower. Little Jimbo quit counting after one hundred carts passed by where he sat on his horse. Nobody said a word as the parade of food carts continued to come down the ramp, transporting more children.

Finally, the main body of children moved beside the scouts. The children that could walk eyed the horses and German Shepherds intently. Lynn could tell the children were wary of the big dogs but said nothing. The four German Shepherds calmly sat in front of Butch watching the children pass by.

“Jungen…aufstehen…mit einem schwanzweding!” she exclaimed.

The four German Shepherds rose to all fours and began to wag their tails.

“What did you just instruct them to do lover?” asked Francis.

It was an unfamiliar command to the Reaper.

“You need to hit the German translation program on the notebook computer. I just told them to stand firm and wag their tails. I think that might put some of those poor children at ease.”

The Night Ranger’s strategy worked. A male child who looked to be ten years of age but was much smaller than a ten year old boy should be, broke from the line of children and approached the scouts.

“Are they friendly dogs? Can I pet one of them?” he asked with an unsure tone in his voice.

Lynn dismounted Butch and walked up to the little boy and knelt down to where she was face to face.

“What is your name?” she asked with a smile.

The Reaper Crew was watching every move the Night Ranger was making. None of them moved and no one said a word.

“My name is Bobby.”

“My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley. How old are you Bobby?”

“I think I am ten now.”

As Lynn spoke with the boy several more children broke from the line of frightened children and stood behind Bobby. Lynn smiled when she saw many of the children eating candy bars and slurping on Tootsie Roll lollipops in their mouths. All the children were thin, extremely thin and Lynn could clearly see that most of them needed medical attention from the condition of the skin on their skinny arms.

“I remember when I was ten. I had a dog then. Would you like to feed my dogs a biscuit? They like dog biscuits.”

She reached in her right pocket and produced a handful of dog biscuits.

“Before we feed the big dogs a dog biscuit we have to feed my little dogs first. Then we can feed the big dogs.”

Now there was a growing crowd of children standing behind Bobby, eyeing the new strangers and their horses intently. None were talking.

“I don’t see any small dogs,” said Bobby.

Lynn turned while still kneeling on both feet.

“Studly, Tiger, it is reward time!”

The children squealed with delight when they saw the two Jack Russell terriers bolt out of Lynn and Francis’s saddle bags and hit the ground moving quickly to stand by the Night Ranger.

“Will they bite me?” asked Bobby

“No, they won’t bite you but if you were a big guard the white one might try to pee on you.”

Lynn had finally managed to break the ice. Many of the children started to laugh.

“Here are some dog biscuits. You have to give one each to the little dogs first and then the big ones. The big ones like to play catch with dog biscuits. All you have to do is toss one at their faces and they will catch it in the air.”

The young boy handed a dog biscuit to each of the Jack Russell terriers and then tossed one dog biscuit to each of the German Shepherds.

Two young girls knelt down and started to pet Tiger while one boy petted Studly. Several of the foot soldiers who were under the command of Connie with a C in the initial attack on the thirty portable buildings were standing behind the children watching. Lynn looked up to see tears streaming down their faces.

The Night Ranger stood up.

“Okay kids, go with these nice ladies. They will take you to get plenty of food, see one of our doctors and most of all you will get to meet our kids.”

“You have kids?” asked Bobby.

“I have two little boys.”

“So you are a Mom?”

Lynn hesitated for a moment fighting her emotions.

“Yes…I am a Mom. Do you see that big tall building? The building is our home and is full of moms wanting a kid just like you. You will see.”

The children that had stopped for the dog and horse show now started to get excited. As Bobby moved away he turned and yelled.

“Lynn! Bring the dogs home soon so we can play with them!”

Lynn mounted Butch and took a deep breath.

“You did good Lynn but the next time you pull a stunt like that with the mutts and one of these mistreated children I am leaving. It wouldn’t be good for those little boys to see the most wanted person in the world bawl like a baby,” said Amanda.

“I will say that was tough. It will be awhile before those kids are healthy but the ladies in the Fontainebleau will manage.”

“Let’s go chat with Joe,” said Francis.

He spurred Two and the rest of the scouts followed his lead. The column of children climbing the ramp continued to stream by.

“Damn Lydia! How many kids were in the buildings?” asked Calamity Jane.

“Well Janie, I didn’t have the time to count any kids while I was killing their…guards but I did notice one thing.”

“What was that?”

“When I went into the first building to clear it there were no bunk beds like we thought there would be. There were continuous two foot wide wood shelves that were mounted on the interior perimeter of the building that were from the floor to the ceiling. There were even kids lying on the floor under the first shelf. In the center of the building were also two separate rows of similar shelving. All of the shelves were full of kids.”

“No shit! Those buildings weren’t that small! That means there were probably more than a hundred kids in each building! We thought there might be thirty in each room!” exclaimed Little Jimbo.

“There were far more than thirty kids in each building. In the last building the two rows in the center were full of foreign FEMA and Homeland Security guards bent over the kids on those shelves that were waist high. I couldn’t tell where or how many kids were on the shelves because most of them were hiding under ragged blankets and crying loudly. It was a scene I will never forget. It took the perverts a few seconds to realize that someone was in the room slicing their throats but once the kids started to scream and bolt from under the blankets towards the door it became very confining in the row I was in and it was difficult to move. The men in the other row pulled up their pants and moved between me and the open door. That was when little Zak jumped on one of the perverts back and I yelled for Joe. There were still kids peeling off the shelves massing at the end of the room where I was located. I never should have yelled for Joe,” she said quietly.

“Me and Janie were standing by the dumpster wall and we saw at least thirty or forty kids run outside before Preacher Joe entered the room. We didn’t wait to see how many ran out after that because we started to mow down the…other perverts running from the guards’ bunkhouse.”

“There were a lot of kids,” answered the White Widow.

As the Reaper Crew arrived at the limousine they paused and watched as the parade of foot soldiers, medical carts and children continued. Most of these children had hollow looks on their faces but it was a good move that the Dykes had had the presence of mind to bring snacks for the trip back. Every child had some type of treat in their hand. Many were holding hands with the young women accompanying them.

Lynn looked at Preacher Joe and Sandra’s faces along with Uncle Danny, who was sitting on the hood of the black limousine. With the bright lights she could easily see their faces. Joe’s eyes were red and swollen while Sandra was still attempting to wipe the continuous tears streaming down her face. Danny was staring into the dark sky in the direction Zak’s helicopter had followed not looking at anyone.

Lynn thought to herself that this was not a good sign.

“Rough night,” said Francis while removing a thin cigar from his vest pocket, striking a match and setting the end on fire.

He handed the lit cigar to Joe. The preacher slowly reached up and took the smoking stick from Francis’ hand. Before taking a breath he locked eyes with the Reaper.

“I can’t remember the last time I had any night rougher than this one.”

Sandra had her head lying on his right shoulder.

“Yes, it was a rough night,” she whispered.

The Reaper Crew stayed at the entrance for a few minutes when they saw several men on horseback riding towards them mounting the on ramp. One of them was Ringo. The half breed pulled up beside Francis.

“I just heard from Connie with a C about little Zak. I’m sorry everyone.”

For a long minute no one said a word. Looking down the off ramp Lynn could see the end of the column of kids.

“There must have been three thousand plus kids.”

“That seems to be a common denominator tonight. We can’t tell until it is light but there must also be three thousand plus horses roaming the northern neighborhoods of Sin City prison right now. The foot soldiers are spreading bales of hay everywhere. They are also removing wash basins and tubs out of the vacant residential houses and filling them with water and oats for the horses. It will be labor intensive task for the next few days until we figure out what to do with all the animals but they have plenty of …women power. We looked at some of the horses and I will say they are fine looking animals. It looks like Homeland Security took very good care of their horses.”

“Those fuckers! The government spent more money on the animals they used to try to kill us than they did on the kids! We shouldn’t have poisoned them Francis! We should have waded into that headquarters building and shot every one of them in the head!” exclaimed Amanda.

Francis sighed.

“There were too many of them.”

“So what do we do now Francis?” asked Calamity Jane.

Francis blew a smoke ring into the swirling night air.

“Anyone heard from big Zak?”

Everyone shook their heads no.

“I haven’t had the time. I need to change the battery in my notebook computer if you want me to try to raise him,” answered Emily.

“No. I reckon we better head to the Fontainebleau and see what is going on. While we are there we can take care of the horses and dogs.”

“I plan on letting those girls tend to Spooky for a little while and then me and Little Jimbo will be getting the hell out of this place. This has been one shitty ride,” said Amanda.

“I am ready to go too! It seems like we have been here a week! I can’t wait to get back to the mountains where the only thing you have to worry about jumping you is a big cat!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

Francis looked at his wristwatch.

“Actually, we have been in Sin City prison less than twenty four hours. The sun will be rising in another hour. If we make the secret tunnel by ten that will mean we came in and got out in twenty four hours.”

Amanda headed down the on ramp.  While leaving she turned and yelled over her shoulder.

“Spooky better be in that Fontainebleau stable or we will be delayed while I go find and shoot Wiley in his good leg but that sounds like the plan to me Francis!”

* * * * *

The first scout to arrive at the entrance to the Fontainebleau courtyard where the stable was located was the Pale Rider. When she arrived she reined in the borrowed horse she was riding. Then she turned in her saddle to address the Reaper Crew.

“We will have to lead the horses on foot to the stable!” she yelled while dismounting.

“Why! What’s wrong?” asked Calamity Jane who was bringing up the rear. The scouts dismounted their rides and walked to where Amanda was standing in the entrance.

In the massive Fontainebleau courtyard were thousands of children. The big courtyard suddenly looked small. The playground was in full use, there were food carts laden with sandwiches against the opposite wall, buckets of ice resting on the floor with cans of soda and tables of candy. The carts were standing one after another on the far wall and the scouts watched as hundreds of hungry children crowded around the surfaces of each table stacked with food to eagerly grab whatever it was that they could stuff in their mouths. They were hungry.

Lynn noticed that some of the children were moving stiffly but others were running around excitedly. She concluded the children who were moving slow were the ones who had received the heaviest dose of abuse from the Homeland Security foreign guards.

“Lydia! Lydia!” exclaimed a voice off to their right.

A middle aged woman ran to Lydia and embraced her, crying.

“Sally! Isn’t this wonderful?” asked Lydia while embracing the older woman.

“I don’t know if I am crying because of the new arrivals and what I have heard about them or if because I am so happy that they are here. We are in the midst of organized chaos!” answered Sally.

Lydia eyed the food carts and the tubs of ice on the floor.

“Where did you get the ice?”

“Free America sent us the machines that make ice and big bottles of pure water! Plus they sent the men to install them! Look! Look! Look at all the tradesmen running around here and there. They came by the busloads from a place called Fort Schultz and since they arrived they have been scrambling to help us meet our needs. Didn’t you see the long line of tractor trailers sitting on Sahara Boulevard waiting to be unloaded? This is wonderful!”

Lydia turned to the scouts who were watching the frenzy in the courtyard and at the entrance lobby to the tower.

“We have eighty thousand women in this tower who are support personnel. We have the women power to get things done.”

“Let me get some people to move the children out of the way so you can proceed to the stables,” said Sally.

The woman soon returned with many additional women to shoo the children away to make a path for the Reaper Crew and their horses. The courtyard was a noisy and active place.

“Isn’t it past these rug rats bedtime? Isn’t it past three in the morning?” asked Amanda.

“I guess the sisters woke them up to make the new arrivals more comfortable. At least with the generators and the halogen lights we won’t have to worry about a hyperactive kid knocking over a torch or candle and starting a fire tonight,” said Sandra.

Amanda grabbed the reins to her borrowed horse and headed for the stable. She smiled when she saw several stable hands brushing down Spooky. The white stallion was receiving the best of care and she was happy to see that Wiley wasn’t around. The remainder of the Reaper Crew followed Amanda’s lead, relinquishing the reins to eager young women wanting to care for the animals.  Although the stable was crowded there were enough stable hands to take care of the horses belonging to Ringo’s crew too.

As Lynn sat down on a bale of hay to rest her weary body the four German Shepherds laid down on the hay covered floor in front of her. She noticed several hundred little faces staring at her from the playground and the playing field. The big dogs still intimidated a lot of little ones.

“I don’t know if it is the dogs or us Lynn but I see a lot of kids looking at the Shepherds and I don’t think they want to pet them. We are a rough looking crew right now,” said Little Jimbo.

“I imagine it is a little of both.”

While the scouts were gathering their thoughts and resting their bodies, in the distance, Lynn thought she heard gunfire but she wasn’t sure because of all the noise the children were making.

“Did anyone hear that?” she asked.

“Hear what?” asked Amanda while reclining on two bales of hay.

“I thought I heard gunfire, like AK47 gunfire!”

“Maybe it’s Uncle Danny,” replied Calamity Jane.

Preacher Joe looked around the courtyard.

“No, it’s not Uncle Danny. He is over at the food tables speaking with Sally.”

“We need to find out!” exclaimed Lynn.

“Well hell girl, that’s easy enough! Hey Connie, I need to speak with Commander Trevor right away!” yelled Amanda looking at the head stable master who was twenty feet away.

Immediately, Connie along with six young women took off across the courtyard in different directions as fast as they could.

“These air heads have a hell of a way of communicating with Commander Trevor and I think he will be here soon enough,” added Amanda.

Ten minutes had passed when Calamity Jane yelled.

“Well I’ll be damned! Look at who is coming across the courtyard! The shit head has gone from being a commander to being a pharaoh, the little prick!”

Commander Trevor was making his way across the big courtyard but Jane wasn’t referencing him. Sitting on an elaborate casino chair on a piece of plywood equipped with handles was Wiley. The plywood was being carried by at least ten foot soldiers. Wiley’s left leg was in a plaster cast. In his right hand he carried a set of crutches. Trevor was grinning from ear to ear while keeping a sharp eye on the Pale Rider. He knew his older brother was a marked man when it came to the Pale Rider.

“Unbelievable! Little Jimbo, do you still carry a carpenter’s hammer in one of your saddle bags?” asked Amanda.

The women moved to stop in front of the sitting scouts and slowly lowered the sheet of plywood to the hay covered floor. Wiley let a grin spread across his face from ear to ear and had focused his stare on the Pale Rider. Lynn thought for a brief moment that Wiley definitely had a death wish.

“Hi Amanda! I had my girls take care of Spooky right away and after I left you by the burning helicopter I didn’t run him hard but I did have a talk with him about our relationship. Spooky must really like me because he gave me a smooth ride to Fontainebleau. We are the best of friends aren’t we, Amanda?”

Amanda had her elbows resting on her knees with her hands clasped in front of her. The Pale Rider tipped her scout hat back on her head and then she looked at the impetuous Wiley for a long moment not saying a word.

“Amanda? We are good friends aren’t we? After all, I lured that chopper away from the kids and then you saved my life. We are related in a way aren’t we?

Finally Amanda spoke.

“Wiley, I was gonna’ shoot your good leg for stealing my horse but I am too damn tired to even hold my pistol.”

“I just borrowed Spooky for ten minutes! After all, he is the fastest horse in the west and I needed immediate medical attention! I was bleeding to death!”

“Yeah Wiley, it looked like you were really bleeding to death. We are friends but if you go around saying we are related you are going to be bleeding some more before the sun comes up,” answered Amanda.

“Trevor, I thought I heard gunfire a moment ago,” said Lynn.

“You did. We had a fifty three foot long trailer that was loaded with AK47s and boxes of ammo. I showed twenty of my captains how to load and use the rifle. Then they showed their squadrons, grabbed some rifles and went up the Strip killing any stragglers from last night. We went all the way to the Reformers pad and we are detaining them. My captains have informed them to stay inside for now. We will deal with them in a couple of days.”

“What are you going to do with them?” asked Preacher Joe.

“The old man and his father have taken care of that. Zak sent me four machines called flatliners. He said Francis knows what they do and what they are.”

Everyone turned to look at Francis except Lynn. She knew what the flatliners were and what they did.

“Tell them,” said the Night Ranger.

The Reaper answered.

“It’s a machine me and Doc have been working on for three years or more. Basically it kills a person for a few seconds and weighs their soul in grams. A person with a three or four gram soul is one evil son of a bitch. The people we knew who were good in their lives and volunteered to be weighed at the point of death weighed an average of twenty one grams. Some were higher and some were lower but they all were around twenty, twenty one grams. Doc determined that if their soul was less than ten grams they weren’t worth living.  Doc and I sent the fuckers with the low totals to continue their journey in life to be weighed by God.”

“The machine kills a person? What good is that if they have a good soul?” asked Preacher Joe.

“The flatliner also has the ability to bring them back to life. Doc worked that out. I reckon he gives them a shock or maybe some type of injection, hell if I know. I think you will see when it is used on the Reformers.”

“That seems kind of radical,” argued Preacher Joe.

“Why? If the Reformers believe what they profess to believe they are already willing to go to meet our Maker.  If some of the Reformers are deceiving everyone we will have the ability to send them on their journey that they profess they have no fear of making. If they are good souls the machine brings them back to continue their journey on Earth. It will flush out people who will be of no help to Free America. The machine will flush out your fake Reformers.”

“It sounds good to me. What are you gonna’ do Commander Trevor?” asked Amanda while giving him a salute to impress the young foot soldiers standing close to him.

“I have things to do here. I am planning on staying to help things run smoothly along with the old man’s help.”

“Zak and his fucking wing it plans,” muttered Amanda.

“This wasn’t a wing it plan. You don’t get two hundred semi trucks together to arrive all in one day. Zak has been planning this for a long time. It just got accelerated when we found those three kids running down in the escape ravine. It is exactly like you guys said earlier when we had the kids on Doc’s one wheeled cart a couple of days ago. You ladies stated when Francis found out about the children he would go crazy. Then many of you asked the question what would old Zak do when he found out about the kids? He obviously went crazy when he spoke with the kids that day. I was sitting right there and I could tell.”

“Yeah, I remember when that happened,” said Sandra.

“We all do. We had a group cry,” said Calamity Jane.

“So Commander Wiley, you are staying here too, aren’t you?” asked Amanda.

Wiley shook his head no.

“Nope. I am a Free America scout. I gave up my commandership or whatever you call it. I am going with everyone back to the Secondary Base, maybe do some training, like poison training.”

“Swell,” sighed Amanda.

“So when are we leaving?” asked Janie.

“There is no hurry,” said Francis.

“That doesn’t surprise me coming from you! I am with Amanda! Let’s get the hell out of here!” retorted Janie.

“Let’s rest for an hour and head out to that culvert with the showers and camp for today and tonight. We can head to the base tomorrow morning. Zak will wait for us to get there for the memorial service in the Valley of Freedom,” said Francis.

“Why go to the culvert? This struggle has ended. Sin City is no longer a prison so I am out of a job thank God,” said Preacher Joe.

“So what are you gonna’ do Preacher Joe?” asked Amanda.

“I am going back to being a scout and ride God’s trails. Sandra is going with me as a partner. She might want to take a little training from Lynn or Amanda on how to make pipe bombs and then we will see but I have had enough of this town.  And we don’t have to camp by the secret tunnel. We can stay at my house where Uncle Danny stays. It has seven bedrooms, four bathrooms, a hot tub and…a big swimming pool. It also has a four car garage where the horses and mules can stay. The mutts can stay in the house if you want Lynn. I will not be returning to my pad.”

“Some pad!” exclaimed Amanda.

“I had my pick of the mansions in Henderson when the economy tanked.”

“I am for staying there especially if there is a hot tub!” said Janie.

“What about you White Widow?” asked Lynn.

“I would like to be a Free America scout so I guess I will ride solo.”

“That is no fun! You can ask Francis! He did that for a few years. Well, he wasn’t exactly solo because he had his dogs,” said Amanda.

“You mean our dogs,” said Lynn.

Everyone turned to look at the Reaper once again. He calmly blew a smoke ring into the air.

“Yeah, our dogs…most of the time.”

The scouts managed to muster some laughter.

“That won’t happen, Lydia. You will ride with me and Joe, like always,” said Sandra.

Emily’s notebook computer started to beep in her saddle bag.

“Oh oh! I thought my battery was dead so I didn’t remove it,” said Emily.

“Dammit Em, just let it beep!” said Calamity Jane.

“I can’t do that! He might be getting in touch with us about little Zak.”

Emily’s comment weighed heavy on the scouts. They wanted to know but they didn’t want to know.

Emily lifted up the lid to the notebook computer and looked at the screen. There was just a short email.

“Zak wants Maurice to set up some speakers and he says he sent some plasma television sets to the Fontainebleau. He wants Maurice to hook the plasma display up to my video output so everyone can see him. He said he wants to talk with everyone before we leave.”

“You heard the woman Maurice! Take some of the boys and go find what she needs and snap to it,” said Ringo.

Commander Trevor turned and motioned for the ten foot soldiers who had carried Wiley to follow Maurice.

The scouts and the female foot soldiers returned with the items Emily needed. One of Ringo’s men was carrying a small Honda generator in his right hand and a heavy duty extension cord in his left.

Maurice set about hooking up the electronics while the scouts watched. It took him less than five minutes.

“You can let me know when you want to fire up your computer ma’am,” said Maurice.

Emily turned to face her friends.

“Is everyone ready for this? The camera on the front of my screen won’t be able to capture everyone.”

“Good. Point the damn thing away from me. This is gonna’ be an emotional talk I think and I don’t want to see Zak cry,” said Amanda.

Everyone present knew the reason was just the opposite of what she had just said. Amanda and old Zak had what everyone called a tough guy relationship and they both were always attempting to out tough the other. So far, over the years, it was a tie.

“Okay Maurice, fire up that generator and let’s get this over with!” yelled Calamity Jane.

The red headed scout was tired.

Maurice did as ordered and one minute later Emily was on line with the Secondary Base. Data, the head of the computer department at the Secondary Base, answered her call.

“Data! Zak just sent me an email.”

“I know,” he answered with a somber voice.

Data was a young man who usually had an upbeat attitude in life. Now he didn’t seem so upbeat.

“So…what happened to the young boy Data?” asked Emily.

Maurice had turned the volume up on the speakers so everyone could hear over the noise the children in the courtyard were making.

“I am under orders not to inform anyone of anything. I know nothing. Zak told me he would do the talking.”

“So where is the old man?” yelled Amanda who could not be seen on Data’s screen.

The computer geek for Free America immediately recognized Amanda’s voice. He had heard it many times in his life, just exactly like he had just heard now.

“He is in the men’s room…washing his face.”

Amanda didn’t say a word for the moment. Everyone knew why the old man was in the bathroom washing his face.

They waited two full minutes before Data spoke again.

“Here he comes,” he said moving from the computer chair.

Zak’s face appeared on the thirty two inch plasma screen. His eyes were swollen and very red. At first no one knew what to say including Emily. The Black Widow was frozen in front of the screen not knowing what to say.

It was a staring contest for a long moment. Finally Lynn stood up from where she was sitting next to Francis and sat down next to Emily.

“Hi Zak,” she said softly.

“Hi Lynn. How is the left hand?” he asked.

Zak’s question surprised the Night Ranger. Usually he never asked anything about the condition or health of a scout out on assignment. He usually just made demands.

“It’s fine. How are you Zak?”

He paused for a brief second and then spoke.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

He then stood up quickly from the computer chair and disappeared. Data sat back down in his seat.

“What’s going on Data?” asked Lynn.

“He went back to the bathroom. He has been doing that often for the last hour.”

Every scout sitting around the plasma screen knew then that the news this early morning would not be good. Everyone sat very still waiting on the old man’s return not uttering a word. The only person doing anything was Francis blowing his trademark smoke rings into the air and staring at the stable ceiling.

The scouts waited another two minutes.

“Here he comes…again,” said Data, standing up.

Zak sat down once again holding a piece of paper in his hands. This time he seemed more composed.

“I have a list of things I need to discuss with everyone concerning what has happened in the last twenty four hours. Of all the people I love in my life you scouts deserve to hear things first. I will start with the number one thing on my list. As you can probably tell, I lost one of my bravest scouts an hour ago. Doc kept him alive during the trip to the base clinic and tried everything he knew to save him. That is the bad news but there is some good news too. Every dark cloud has a silver lining, or so they say, and this was one dark cloud this morning. I will give you the good news last.”

What Zak just said had a hard impact on Lydia and Sandra. Both women broke down and started to sob loudly. Preacher Joe was sitting next to Sandra and put his left arm around her shoulders attempting to comfort her to no avail. He had his eyes closed and was saying a prayer while making the sign of the cross. The Black Widow and Calamity Jane also started to cry. Strangely, the Night Ranger kept her composure in front of the screen. She was worried about her two closest friends and what they might be feeling. Janie had told her on the ride back to the Fontainebleau Tower that she felt guilty not detaining the young boy.

Wiley got up off his bale of hay and hobbled to the far side of the stable using his crutches to where Lydia was sitting alone. He plopped down beside her and put his left arm around her shoulder while she continued to cry.

“What? What in the hell? Was that Wiley that I just saw walk behind you Night Ranger?” asked Zak.

“Yep. That was Wiley. Why?”

“Why, I thought he was dead! When we took off with little Zak I saw him lying on the desert floor with Ghost a few feet away! I thought the chopper got him!”

“No. The chopper shot him in the leg and chest but he was wearing the mandatory Kevlar bullet proof vest because he is a commander of the Dykes.”

“Well I’ll be damned! At least that is some good news but I might have fucked up! I just spoke with Scott. He and his men took Nellis Air Force Base tonight. Nevada is finally free.”

“We know. We saw them from the killing field. So how did you fuck up?”

“I thought Wiley was dead. I had Scott and his men cover up the name Nellis with a white sheet of plywood and paint the name McFoster on its surface.”

“Now that does it! I have seen some shit happen in my life out on the trail but I have never seen anything like this since we crossed that damn bridge! I have been killing the enemy for you for six years and you never named anything for me or Little Jimbo! This fucker joins the scouts and in just two damn days he is a commander and has an air base named after him! You and I are gonna’ have a little talk Zak when I get back!” yelled Amanda.

“Oh, quit your bitching Amanda, I imagine one day there will be a Pale Rider High school somewhere in this nation,” replied Zak.

“What about me?” asked Little Jimbo.

At first Zak didn’t answer but finally he managed a weak smile.

“Yeah, maybe a Little Jimbo’s horse park or zoo, something like that,”

The experienced scouts who had known Jimbo for years laughed.

“That brings me to the next thing on my list. Nevada is no longer Nevada. It will be known as Free America forever more. I sent official notifications to the three nations and United States government, or what is left of it, that we have seceded from any association and now stand alone. I appointed myself dictator just like you know who for now. I always wanted to do that, at least for a couple of days. Taking Nellis and having their planes and our pilots who have defected have sure changed things. That fucking dictator knows by now not to fuck with Free America. I will bomb the shit out of their northern cities starting with their capital. Assured mutual mass destruction is powerful foreign policy and he knows we have the mountains. They won’t emerge out of the ashes. We will.”

“What next Zak? We are all tired,” said Lynn.

“The next thing is Sin City prison is no longer Sin City prison. It is now known as Fort Little Zak.”

The scouts all looked up at the plasma screen. There were a few tears rolling out of old Zak’s eyes.

“We all like that Zak. We really do,” answered Lynn.

“That brings me to the next thing on my list. What are you going to do with the White Widow’s body?”

Everyone turned to look at Lydia leaning on Wiley’s right shoulder.

“Well gee, I don’t know Zak. I don’t think anyone had any plans on doing anything with Lydia’s body other than Wiley. Maybe you should ask him,” said Lynn.

Lynn turned the notebook computer to where Zak could see Wiley and Lydia sitting on a bale of hay.

Amanda was giving Lynn a thumb’s up sign.

“Lydia is alive? I saw her get chopped down by the helicopter right after Wiley got chopped down! Was she wearing a Kevlar vest too?”

“No Zak. She is a fast and deadly woman. The chopper crew missed their target and she melded into the shadows. She is alive and well. She is coming back with us to be a scout. She doesn’t need any training unless she wants to go to the Twin Caves.”

“Poison training might be the thing for her,” said Zak.

“That sounds good to me too, especially if Wiley rides with her,” said Amanda.

Zak shook his head but said nothing.

“The next thing on my list I want to discuss is with Francis.”

“Francis, do you want to speak with Zak?” asked Lynn.

“No, whatever he has to say to me he can say to you. You are my wife. It is the same as speaking with me,” he said with his gruff voice.

“Since I am now the dictator I had Data look up the coordinates and draw up a deed as per agreement years ago for the liberation of Fema Camp 43. You and Lynn are now the owners of thirty thousand acres in Central and East Nevada.”

“Did you add the options?” asked Lynn.

“You knew about the options?” asked Zak.

“Hell yes I knew about the options. My husband loves me,” replied Lynn.

“Yes. The ten options that I agreed to when Francis got me drunk, and mind you young lady, that was a year before I met you, are in the contract.”

“Did you hear that honey?”

“Tell Zak when we get to the Secondary Base I will exercise all ten of those options.”

“Did you hear that Zak?” asked Lynn with a grin.

“So soon! Can’t you wait Francis?”

Lynn didn’t even bother to turn and ask.

“No.”

“What options?” asked Amanda.

“Well, one of them is that for every ten pounds of gold turned over to Free America if it ever became a nation, Francis would get ten thousand additional acres. We were planning on giving the land to any scout who served in this war.”

“Lynn! Me, you, Francis and Little Jimbo must have, uh, found six of seven hundred pounds in that cave!” exclaimed Amanda.

“Don’t tell me that story! I know about the Twin Caves! You four probably relocated more than that! Am I right Francis?”

Francis blew a smoke ring and moved to stand behind Lynn.

“Old man, you got several tons out of Mel’s cave that were already in canvas bags. I already got mine long before Amanda and Little Jimbo got theirs. Just have some deeds ready. I would say a hundred and fifty thousand acres in East Free America where the mountains are would be a good start. And by the way, don’t forget to include the land the Secondary Base is located on and the Valley of Freedom. We will be there with the gold…one day.”

“Okay Francis, You win. Finally this brings me to the last thing on my list and the most difficult.  When Doc had little Zak on the emergency room table he came out and told me he wasn’t going to make it.”

Now the Night Ranger was finding it difficult to hold back her tears.

“During the ride in the helicopter the boy never regained consciousness and I was wanting for that to happen real bad. So when Doc told me to go in and say my goodbyes I had no desire to do that. Doc told me then he could give little Zak a shot that would make him conscious for a minute or two but doing that would hasten his death. So I agreed,”

Now the female scouts were starting to sob.

“Doc gave him the shot and thirty seconds later little Zak opened his eyes. I told him…I loved him and that I was proud of him. He crooked his finger wanting me to come close to his face. Then he told me something that will affect all our lives forever. He grinned at me…and then closed his eyes. Excuse me for a moment.”

Zak quickly disappeared from the screen and Data sat down once again.

Lynn was wiping her face with a field tissue.

“Bathroom?” she managed to ask.

“Bathroom,” answered Data while nodding his head.

“Zak also said for everyone to stay right there. He still has something to say.”

Several minutes passed by while the female scouts struggled to regain their composures. The four German Shepherds moved to sit by the Night Ranger offering her some comfort.

Finally Zak returned to sit in front of the camera.

“Okay, I feel better. I had to take a pee.”

Amanda just laughed through her tears but said nothing.

“What was it you wanted to tell us Zak?” asked Lynn.

“I wanted to tell you what little Zak said during his last moments. It was a request.”

“A request? What was the request?” asked Lynn.

“He asked for Preacher Joe, Sandra and Lydia to take care of his twin brother and their little sister. They were in building twelve at the slave camp. I told him we all would be their mommies and daddies. Then he said thanks big Zak and passed.”

The request was the saddest thing the scouts had ever heard but also sent elation running through their souls. Preacher Joe quickly stood and sat down next Lynn and Emily.

“Uncle Zak, little Zak had a twin brother and a little sister? If that is true it is a sign from Jesus and God that we are not done. That is the best news I have heard in a long time. How are we gonna’ find them? There are thousands of kids running around in the courtyard.”

“There is a more important question than that. I can find the boy quickly, I think. The question is, what, do you want us to do once we find the two children?” asked Lynn.

“Bring them back here to the Secondary Base to be raised here with all our kids and the scouts. That is what little Zak wanted to do. I confirmed little Zak’s story with Ashley and Mary. They told me their names and said the brother is a dead ringer for little Zak. They also said he was stealing food for building twelve while he was there.”

Now all the scouts were standing behind the Night Ranger, including Francis.

“What are their names, old man?” asked Francis.

“The boys name is Jeremiah. Zak’s eleven year old sister is named Constance.”

“Well, what else would the little girl’s name be, especially in Sin City. Every girl in this place is named Connie,” said Amanda, now starting to get excited about the search for the kids.

“We will find them Zak and bring them with us. It will take us a few days to get home. How are my babies?” asked Lynn while still wiping tears away from her face.

“I knew you were gonna’ ask me that. Just a second,” he said getting up from the computer chair.

He was gone briefly and then sat back down holding two squirming young infants, one in each arm.

“Say hi to mommy guys,” said the old man.

Zak continued to sit in front of the screen with the twins for a few minutes while Amanda, Janie and the women took turns sitting next to Lynn to see the babies. Then Zak stood up, disappeared from view and returned.

“When you get the kids head home,” he ordered.

Then the screen went dark.

After several minutes of hugging and crying the female scouts were ready to start their search in the courtyard for Jeremiah and Constance. They looked over the courtyard which was still alive with thousands of playing children.

“This might take us a while to find and look at each little boy,” said Calamity Jane.

“I bet we will be looking at them more than once too. Once we turn one loose and he starts running around like a crazy man how are we gonna’ control that?” asked Amanda.

“I can find the boy in less than two minutes,” said Lynn.

“How can you find the boy so quickly” asked Little Jimbo.

“I can’t find him quickly but Sarge can,” answered Lynn, referring to her black German Shepherd.

The Night Ranger walked over to her saddle bags lying on the hay covered floor and started to rummage through one of them. The she pulled out a crumpled small leather hat.

The group of scouts quickly closed ranks around the Night Ranger, except for one. Francis sat down on a nearby bale of hay.

“Once Sarge gets little Zak’s scent I think he might pick up on Jeremiah’s, maybe. I am not sure but it is worth a try. Sarge is one bad ass tracker,” said Lynn.

“We all will go with you!” exclaimed Wiley.

“No!” said the Reaper loudly.

The scouts turned to see a cold edge in Francis’ steel blue eyes.

“You sit down over there on that same bale of hay where you have been sitting you glory hound. We don’t need a bunch of scouts walking through the crowd of kids with a German Shepherd and scaring them shitless. Lynn, get one of the attack leashes on Sarge. Preacher Joe, Sandra and Lydia will go with Lynn and Sarge to find the kid. Everyone else sit down and relax, watch the show.”

Lynn retrieved her leash while Joe, Sandra and Lydia stood next to her.

The Night Ranger held little Zak’s hat in front of Sarge’s face.

“Sarge…suchen! Jungen…aufenthalt!” exclaimed Lynn while pointing at Wiley.

The black Shepherd sniffed the hat several times and then started to pull Lynn in the direction of the entrance to the courtyard.

“What did she just tell him to do Francis?” asked Wiley.

“Do you have to know what the hell is going on all the damn time?” asked Amanda.

“She told Sarge to go find the boy and she told the remaining three German Shepherds that are now looking at you to tear you up if you got off that bale of hay until she gets back,” answered Francis.

“Did she really tell them that?” exclaimed Wiley.

“Why don’t you stand up and find out?” asked Amanda with a grin.

Calamity Jane, who had learned her German for commands, nodded her head.

Once the black Shepherd reached the entrance to the courtyard he immediately placed his nose to the ground and circled several times.

“He has something,” said Lynn.

Then the big dog headed for the tables laden with food and treats at the wall just to left of the entrance. Once there he went to the left end of the table and paused, placing his head on the edge. What the four scouts saw next make Lydia and Sandra cry. It also gave Lynn encouragement that her animal was on the right trail.

On the surface of the table were hundreds of Snickers bars.

“At least he has the same tastes as his brother,” said Lynn.

“Yes, but he didn’t know about Francis giving the kids the Snickers bars on the trail!” exclaimed Sandra.

“What is everyone talking about?” asked Joe.

“When we picked up the kids on the Las Vegas Trail, after they escaped, the first candy they were given were some Snicker bars that Francis had!” cried Lydia.

Joe locked eyes with Lynn.

“That is God watching over you and your dog.”

“Sarge…suchen!” exclaimed Lynn.

The black Shepherd immediately once again put his nose to the ground and started to head east, through the large field towards the playground at the far end directly in front of the stables. The children on the ground gave the animal a wide berth.

One minute later Sarge sat down in front of a boy who was flattened out against the steel perimeter wall of the Fontainebleau Tower. The four scouts gasped.

In front of them was a small figure that looked exactly like little Zak. He was, as old Zak had said, a dead ringer.

The boy was looking at the black Shepherd but was as stiff as a board.

“Here Joe, hold Sarge’s leash. Sarge…sit!” she exclaimed.

Lynn walked to the young child and knelt down.

“Is your name Jeremiah?” she asked softly.

She already knew the answer.

“How did you know that?”

“I knew your brother Zak.”

“You did? How did you know him? I never saw you at the camp. Am I in trouble? Do I have to go back there?” he asked with rising panic in his voice.

“No, you will never have to go anywhere, anymore, unless you want to.”

“So how do you know Zak? He ran away a while ago. I figured the Homeland Security guards caught him and sent him to heaven with Ashley and Mary.”

“No, he succeeded in running away and became a scout for Free America,” said Lynn softly trying not to cry.

“He did! Wow! Then what he was always telling the other kids was true!”

“What was that?” asked Lynn, sniffling a little.

“He used to tell us that he heard that all someone had to do was jump down in the big ditch towards the sunrise and follow the ditch in the direction of the mountains. He used to tell everyone it went to Free America, where you could become a scout.”

“You have heard about the scouts?”

“Heck yeah! We used to talk every night after the bad men left our building about the scouts. We were always hoping that they would come one day and kill all the bad men. So my brother became a scout! Where is he?”

Now Lynn found herself between a rock and a hard place. Preacher Joe came to her rescue along with Lydia.

“Hi Jeremiah. My name is Joe and this lady is named Lydia. We served with your brother in the scouts. I have some bad news. He was sent to Heaven on our last mission together. He was the bravest scout I have ever known.”

“My brother is…dead? What happened?”

“I was with him when it happened. He was the one who headed up the operation to free you and your little sister, along with all the other kids. For twenty nine buildings it was just three on three so we killed a lot of bad men. In building one there were thirty men. It was thirty against three and Zak saved my life, jumping on a guard but several guards jumped on him before Joe and I could help,” said Lydia softly.

“Yes…building one was a very bad building to be in. That sounds like my brother though. I always told him to be smarter and quit being so tough. Me and Zak almost went to Heaven a couple of months ago because he acted tough with the guards when they interrogated all the kids.”

“Why did they interrogate everyone? Was it because of the scout talk?”

Jeremiah laughed.

“No, it was not because of that Mister Joe. One day one of their trucks broke down by the buildings. Zak told me there was a quart of transmission fluid in the bed of this truck and he knew that I could steal it. I was good at stealing things. We wanted to stop the bad things happening to the kids and Zak said he knew how to do it. He said we would poison them like the scouts so we slipped out that night and poured the fluid into their fifty gallon igloo. Zak said they wouldn’t be able to taste it because they were foreigners and they were used to drinking bad water. He was right. In the morning when they woke everyone up the guards were mad. Forty two of the guards got sick and died. A hundred more were taken away in medical transports and we never saw them again. After that they started to get rough and we worked even longer days but it was worth it for a while. The guards stayed away but then things started to get bad again. That was when Zak said he was going to get in the ditch and go get some help. The only two kids who agreed to go with him were Ashley and Mary. The guards were doing bad things to Mary.”

Preacher Joe let a grin spread across his face when he heard Jeremiah’s story.

“That sounds exactly like the scout that I knew. That is why we are here. Zak always told me, Sandra and Lydia that if anything ever happened to him to come and ask you and your little sister if you wanted to go with us to Free America.”

Jeremiah’s eyes grew wide.

“Is this for real? Am I dreaming? I get a chance to go to Free America? What about all my friends?”

“We can only ask members of a scout’s family. When your friends get old enough they can join the scouts anytime.  You and Constance are members of our family now. Is that a yes?”

“Heck yeah!”

“Wait until you meet big Zak. He was your brother’s favorite scout. He is back at our home waiting to talk with you and your sister. He acts a lot like your brother,” said Lynn.

“What is your name?”

“I’m sorry. I failed to tell you my name. My name is Lynn, Lynn Beasley.”

“Where is Constance?” asked Lydia.

“She is right there on the end of that bench. She hasn’t said much the past few days since…she was sent to building one. That was the punishment the guards gave us for Zak running away.”

That tidbit of information sent shockwaves through Lydia’s body. She moved across the playground to sit next to Constance.

The young girl was staring off into the distance not focusing on anything in particular.

“Hi Constance, My name is Lydia.”

The young girl said nothing and continued to stare.

“I was in building one tonight when you were there. I was the person dressed in black who was killing the bad men.”

The young girl finally focused her eyes and slowly turned to look at Lydia’s face.

“That was you?”

“Yes, that was me.”

“I saw what happened to my brother when I was running out. I couldn’t stop to help him because they would have killed me,” she said softly.

“You did the right thing. I knew Zak well. He was my partner in the scouts.”

Lydia figured she would follow the same line of reasoning Joe had taken with Jeremiah. She would soon find that the path of reason often does not arrive at the same end.

“Zak became a scout? He told me he was going to do that.”

“He did. The lady with the dog has his hat in her hand.”

“Will that dog bite?”

“No, he won’t bite you. None of the dogs at Free America bite any scouts.”

“So what happens to me now?”

“The last thing Zak asked me to do was come here and ask you and Jeremiah if you wanted to go with me, the man dressed in black beside the woman with the dog and the blonde haired woman who is dressed like me. We are getting ready to ride our horses back to Free America and say goodbye to a brave scout for the last time.”

The girl turned and stared at her brother, watching him feed the black dog a dog biscuit and pet him on the head. Jeremiah had a smile on his face.

“What was your name again?” asked the young girl.

“My name is Lydia.”

“My friends and my brother call me Connie. I will go with you if you promise me one thing.”

“Okay. What might that be?”

“If you promise me that you will teach me how to kill men,” she answered softly.

At first Lydia didn’t know what to say. Then she thought back about the first day she arrived in Sin City prison and the year she had just spent. A wicked smile crept across her face. She placed her arms around Connie and pulled her to her chest.

“I can do that.”

After a long hug the young girl broke away and stuck out her hand.

“We have to shake on that,” said Connie.

Lydia reached out and shook the young girl’s hand.

* * * * *

Two hours had passed since the scouts had located Jeremiah and Connie. The scouts were packed and ready to go at the intersection of Sahara and the Las Vegas Strip.

There were two groups of scouts on the street. There was one large group of scouts waiting on Sahara and one very small group.

A young man was sitting on a horse amongst the large group. He looked sharp in his new jeans, black tee shirt and black hiking boots. Sandra and Lydia had taken care of the young man’s cleanliness and the grooming requirements. He looked sharp sitting in a saddle with a scout’s hat on his head. He was wearing little Zak’s scout hat. The hat fit him perfectly.

“Do you think you can ride that horse young man?” asked Calamity Jane pulling up beside him on her horse.

“Little Jimbo picked him out for me. I went with him on his horse and we found him in somebody’s front yard. He said it used to be a government horse and Little Jimbo said the government at least had good horses. I like him.”

“That’s a nice big black stallion. You were lucky to find him. What are you gonna’ name him?” asked Calamity Jane.

“Well, I was thinking about naming him Zak but then I thought about that. This place is named after my brother. So I named him Butchette after Lynn’s horse.”

“Butchette? That’s a boy horse! Butchette is a girl’s name!” exclaimed Calamity Jane.

“I know. But I figured him having a name like that will make him kind of ornery. Little Jimbo said to come up with a name to make him that way and I like Lynn. I owe her and Sarge for finding me.”

“Connie, are you gonna’ ride with Lydia all the way to the base? Don’t you want your own horse?” asked Emily.

“No, I want to ride with Lydia for now. We have things to talk about.”

“Okay. We have extra horses with us for the trip. Anytime you want to ride just let one of us know.”

“I will ride one of these days. It is important to learn some things from the White Widow.”

Preacher Joe locked eyes with Lydia and just shook his head.

Lydia leaned forward and whispered in the young girl’s ear.

“Really? I didn’t know that! I want to ride with Sandra too!”

Connie hopped down to the pavement and walked up to Sandra’s horse. Sandra reached down and lifted her to sit on the front of her saddle. The young girl smiled as Sandra wrapped her arms around her small body.

“So Francis, what are we waiting for? Everyone is here. Ringo and his twenty nine scouts, the ten foot soldiers going for scout training and everybody else,” said Calamity Jane.

The sun was just about rise above the Sunrise Mountains to the east and its reflections were bouncing off the asphalt surface of Sahara Boulevard.

“We are waiting on one person, Janie, the impetuous one. Amanda is not quite ready to leave,” replied Francis.

“Is she still with the medical one wheeled cart?” asked Lynn.

“Yep. She is making sure Wiley is strapped in real tight. She said we didn’t want him to accidentally fall off and Zak blame her.”

“That ain’t that reason,” said Lynn.

“I know about you and Amanda’s deal. I know every detail about the deal you two made with Maurice.”

“We had to. He is the one driving the medical cart and he is the only scout in Ringo’s outfit who has an Ipod and good headphones. If he ever starts a horse ranch he will be set for life once we get back to the Secondary Base. We got a good deal,” said Lynn.

“What was the final count?” asked Francis.

“For every bump he hits with that cart and makes Wiley howl with pain, and for every forty times he does that, we agreed to give him a colt or the pick of the litter from our German Shepherds. He might wind up with a lot of colts and puppies one of these days. There are a lot of bumps on the two trails to the Secondary Base.”

“That sounds like pure torture!” said Preacher Joe.

“It is,” answered Lynn.

Amanda finally rode up on Spooky.

“We are ready to ride Francis. I have everything set.”

Francis blew a smoke ring that hung perfectly in front of his face.

“I reckon so,” he said as he turned to the east and waved his arm.

Amanda pulled alongside Lynn and grinned.

“Are we ready?” asked Lynn.

“Yes we are. Besides Maurice hitting every rock on the trail this is really gonna’ cinch it!”

In her hand she held a stereo remote control.

“Maurice set up the player and the speakers. He has it set for replay. He said listening to the song over and over wouldn’t drive him nuts because he has his own music and headphones. Are we ready?” asked Amanda sweetly.

“Fire away Amanda. I kind of like that song anyways,” replied Lynn.

Amanda pressed a red button on the stereo remote and soon the sounds of Comfortably Numb started to drift to the east.

“Amanda, he is one hundred yards behind us! It needs to be louder!” said Lynn.

Amanda pressed the volume control again and the music got louder. All the scouts could hear was Wiley yelling for Amanda with a few other phrases that were broken by the loud music.

“Just you wait. We are going to make him like a male scout should be. The strong silent type. Wiley is strong, he just ain’t so silent. Wait until he gets to the Secondary Base and he hears the old man playing that song. I hope I am around when he tells Zak he can’t stand Comfortably Numb.”

Epilogue

So this is my contribution to the Always Remember Program to be taught to our children in Free America.

After leaving Sin City prison that day with my scout friends we traveled back to the Secondary Base. I will never forget that four day journey with the kids through the Passageway of Faith and the Nightmare Trail. After Francis and Little Jimbo cleared the tunnel of the always present rattlesnakes we took the kids to the opposite end to see if they preferred to travel the Nightmare Trail or delay our arrival another four days to bury their brother in the Valley of Freedom. They had no fear of the dizzying heights and narrow ledge. They were fearful of not saying goodbye to little Zak. Jeremiah insisted on riding his horse alone. After a heated discussion of whether to allow the young man to ride Butchette on the dangerous trail between, Francis and the experienced female scouts, Francis finally agreed, on one condition. The young boy would lead with Francis on Two following behind, with a modified lanyard secured on Jeremiah’s body. The lanyard was not needed. I was so proud of my adopted son that day. Connie rode on my horse with me.

Wiley, on the other hand, went into a sheer panic when we pulled up to the Nightmare Trail. Amanda finally negotiated an agreement with the commander. She would turn off Comfortably Numb for the rest of the journey if he would agree to be pulled on his one wheel medical cart across the Nightmare Trail to save time. Wiley made just one slight mistake, He didn’t shake on the deal. Amanda agreed to blindfold him for the four mile jaunt. Little Jimbo managed to capture the moment with his notebook computer. He was the only scout who was crazy enough to ride the Nightmare Trail while sitting in reverse on his horse to record Wiley’s fits of fear after Amanda yanked off his blindfold at the start of the journey. The video of Wiley and that part of the journey is still popular forty years later. To make matters worse, Amanda played Comfortably Numb with the volume control set on ten. Wiley learned the value of a handshake that day.

Preacher Joe, Sandra and I continued to ride together for the next two years until the Civil War actually ended. After the federal government requested a truce with Free America we were married in the Valley of Freedom. Since then I have blessed Joe with four boys and three girls while Sandra has bore him five sons.

After the war we returned to the Secondary Base to gather our other two children, Jeremiah and Connie. They had melded into the daily routines at the Secondary Base. Uncle Zak had seen to that.

We lived at the Base for a year, riding and camping in the Valley of Freedom with the kids at least once a week while our large farmhouse was built just two miles away from Francis and Lynn’s spread. We visited little Zak’s grave every week and every week Sandra and I had an emotional breakdown. It took us a year to overcome that.  All the scouts who were at Fort Zak that day now live within a one hour horse ride of each other. Some live closer. Francis saw to that.

I am reminded of little Zak everyday many times, especially when it is supper time and I see Jeremiah sitting across from me. He grew up to be a big man and joined the scouts, thankfully when there were peaceful times. Joe always tells him to this day to quit acting like his Uncle Zak.

Connie did the same and I was worried when she asked to go to Aunt Amanda’s farm for a week to learn how to make pipe bombs when she turned eighteen. Joe let her go when she told him many of her cousins would be there for the week. My oldest daughter and son have kept my secret for forty years from the younger children, until now. The day I arrived at Sin City Prison I never thought I would be where I am today, a wife, a mother and a grandmother.

We are family.

Lydia Holder

Nevada Foreign Relations Ambassador

The White Widow.

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